


Kingdom

by olddarkmachine



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: AND INTRIGUE, Alternate Universe, Curses, F/M, Fairy Tale Style, IM SO BAD AT TAGS IM SORRY, MYSTERY ABOUND!, Magic, Modern Era, basically there's myths and legends, made up histories, the fact that there may or may not have been death at some point, yeah it's fun aside from you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olddarkmachine/pseuds/olddarkmachine
Summary: Gajeel has had the dream about dying for the blue haired girl for as long as he can remember. Which is weird, since he’s never met anyone with blue hair in his life.Levy has always loved myths and legends. So much so, in fact, that she was currently getting her master’s in mythological studies.What neither of them realized was that they were living a legend all their own.AKA the one with a knight, a princess, and a curse that keeps bringing them together just to pull them apart.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Would y’all believe I actually wrote this before when I said I would? I KNOW I’M SHOCKED TOO! Honestly, I just got super excited lol This is just the prologue, and I’m kinda hoping to get Chapter 1 up by the end of this week when this was originally going to happen. Also, I’m not gonna do a set deadline this time since clearly I can’t stick to them. I’m going to post at least once a week on this one, but I think I’m just gonna update whenever it’s done as opposed to on a certain day. (This is good because maybe I can work out more than one update a week this way. WHO KNOWS THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS!) Anyway, LET’S START THIS JOURNEY SHALL WE?! (Also sorry for such a crap summary? I have no idea how to explain this one without giving too much away lol Don’t be shocked if you see that change.)

**_Once Upon A Time_ **

If you asked the people of his kingdom, they would tell you that King Dreyar was a kind and just king. Where many kings in bordering lands ruled their kingdoms with cold disregard to those considered beneath them, Fiore’s king listened to his subjects. He believed a king whose people were suffering while he sat on his throne was no king at all. Yes, he was a well respected king, which was why when the rumors that the King had an illegitimate daughter started to spread, they were widely disregarded by his people, for King Dreyar loved his wife, Queen Kearia Dreyar. What his people didn’t know that he had a first love.

As a prince, Makarov Dreyar was of the rambunctious sort. It seemed as if it were everyday that the young man would go missing from the castle just to be dragged back by his guard Metalicana to receive his lashings from his father. The servants often gossiped amongst themselves, wondering if the prince was a bit thick in the head, or if he just got some sick satisfaction out of driving the king crazy. They tried fruitlessly to get Metalicana to tell them. They’d bribe him with extra portions of dinner, offered him money, and on the odd occasion offered him a daughter to be his future wife, and yet Metalicana kept tight lipped about what it was his charge was doing when he disappeared from the castle. All they could get out of him was that he answered to the king and Prince Makarov alone.

What the servants didn’t know was that even the king himself couldn’t get Metalicana to tell him where the prince ran off to. The knight had been the youngest to come through the ranks, becoming a part of the royal guard at the tender age of 17, and was often referred to as the Iron Dragon. He was used to being regarded with contempt and fear, and yet the prince had welcomed him as an equal. While it may have only been because Metalicana was the only other person the same age as Makarov in the castle, it led the knight to pledge his whole allegiance to the prince.

This meant that everyday when Makarov slipped out of the castle with his horse and rode to the forest on the outskirts of town to meet with the blue haired girl named Ileana McGarden, the Iron Dragon would wait until as late in the day as he could to go and bring him back. Everyday the knight would ask the prince if it was worth the beating he received, and each day the prince would simply respond that love was worth any punishment.

This continued until just before Makarov’s 21st birthday, when his father fell gravely ill. The ailing king’s final wish, was for his son to marry Lady Kearia Blackthorn of Vistarion and to see his son take over the throne. The day before the wedding was the only time Metalicana did not bring the prince home.

***

Ten years later, the Iron Dragon was killed, leaving behind his son Gajeel to be raised by the King. He followed in his father’s footsteps, becoming Makarov’s most trusted knight by the time he was 18 years old.

“Do you wish me to come with you?” Gajeel asked, his wild black hair falling over the black iron of his armor that mimicked his father’s. His mouth was set in a scowl that the king was all too familiar worth. He really was just like his father.

“No, Gajeel, I can do this alone,” Makarov said dismissively as he pulled his cloak on over his own armor. He’d received the message from an inky black raven, which could only mean that it was from the oracle, and she preferred to meet alone.

“But sir,” the knight started to protest before the king raised his hand to silence him.

“Even your father didn’t keep such a tight leash on me, my boy,” he chuckled. “If your old man could trust me enough to let me meet with the oracle, you can too. Besides, don’t you ever take a break?” It was a rhetorical question. He of all people knew that Gajeel didn’t ever take any time off. Gajeel laughed humorlessly.

“Fine, but your better let the queen know that this was what you wanted before you go so if you get killed she knows it wasn’t because I didn’t try.” This elicited a bark of laughter from the king.  _Fucking smartass_ , he thought to himself as he pushed his way through the door, letting it shut behind him and ending his conversation with the knight.

***

It was impossibly quiet in the forest as Makarov tied his horse to a tree just outside of the clearing he knew the oracle would be waiting for him. He’d learned quite some time ago to not bring his horse any closer, and he had the scar through his eyebrow to remind him just in case he ever forgot. Carefully stepping through the trees and trying his best to avoid making too much noise, he finally reached the clearing. There was a 50-foot radius that had been cleared of any forest and left nothing but a twisted metal stand holding a black marble basin. Standing at the basin, was the oracle. Her skin was a pale, almost translucent white and her silver hair glittered in the moonlight and fell down the back of the simple black dress that hung loosely from her body. A milky film covered her eyes, leaving her blinded, though Makarov often wondered if that were true. At the current moment in time, he’d swear she was staring right through him.

“Makarov,” she greeted. Her voice echoed around them, filling the space and suddenly making him feel small.

“Oracle,” he said back, stepping further into the clearing until he was in front of her and the basin she stood at. Without another word, she reached her hands towards him and gently place them both on his face.

“It’s good to see you, old friend.” A small smile touched her lips. At least, Makarov thought he saw a hint of a smile. He’d never actually seen her show any emotions in all the years he’d known her.

“What is it you need to show me?” Her hands fell away from his face and returned to either side of the basin. A ripple caused the surface of the black liquid inside it to dance.

“Death.” The single word she uttered was electric and the forest around them rustled with a sudden gust of wind. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen death in his future, and yet an ominous feeling had started to work its way through his body. There was something different about this time.

“Whose death?” The question nearly choked him as he forced it out. She started to slowly pass her hands over the liquid, causing the black to fade away into a pearly white.

“Your daughter’s,” she whispered as she looked up from the liquid, her stare cutting him to the bone. Ice started to run through his veins as he struggled to breathe.

“I… I don’t have a daughter,” he struggled to say. Try as they might, he and the queen had been unable to have a child. It weighed on them both but he was able to bury himself in his work as king. Not to mention Gajeel was like a son to him. But they did not have any children.

“You do, Makarov,” the seer’s voice said forcefully as she slammed her hands down on the sides of the basin. Suddenly, he was transported back to that day all those years ago when he had seen Ileana for the last time. The memory caused a sharp pain of sorrow to erupt through his chest as he saw Ileana crying in his arms. The vision melted away as his past self leaned down to kiss away her tears. A tear fell down his face and landed in the liquid before he even had the chance to realize it was there.

“Show me,” was all he said, his voice breaking slightly.

The oracle returned to waving her hands over the deep basin between them, causing the liquid to start to spin into a milky white whirlpool. Makarov watched intently, mesmerized by the swirling liquid that spun faster and faster. Colors started to bleed from the outside edges of the basin and suddenly, it came to a stop with one crystal clear image reflected in the surface. The face of a blue haired young woman with honey colored eyes stared back at him. He felt himself reach towards the image, unable to look away from the woman’s image in the basin.

“She looks just like her mother,” he managed to breathe. His chest was throbbing with pain as he took her in. All this time, and he’d never known. Reaching his hand forward, his fingers ghosted across the top of the liquid, barely disrupting the surface. The touch caused image to fall away, leaving nothing but the inky black liquid it had originally been. “Who knows about this?” Makarov demanded. His tears had dried and his eyes now burned. The seer returned his glare with her own blind one. She placed a hand on the side of the basin and paused as if she were listening to someone speak.

“No one yet,” she finally said, her hollow voice echoing through the forest around them. Makarov was infinitely aware of the final word. The sound of it sent a shot of cold fear unlike anything he’d ever felt down his spine. There was a finality in that word. Someone would find out about the blue haired woman in the forest, and they would kill her.

What neither the seer or the king noticed, was the pair of purple eyes that watched them from the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may start reading this and think that it’s the preview I’d posted a while ago. (Now removed since it was just a preview lol) While it does start the same, it’s completely different because that had been a random ditty I’d written once the idea had entered my head and I wanted to test the waters. So yeah. Don’t let the first like four paragraphs fool you! This is all new!

Everything was dark and the only thing Gajeel could feel was a heavy weight across his chest and the cold that was biting at his fingers. _So this is death_. The thought was oddly comforting. He hadn’t expected it to be so calm nor had he expected it to be so quiet yet as he lay there, the weight on his chest growing heavier and the chill working its way through his body, it was the most serene he’d ever felt. Well, that wasn’t quite true. A flash of blue danced across his mind’s eye accompanied by the memory of a tinkling laugh. Gajeel had always known she’d be the cause of his death. He’d been born to give his life for her after all, and he’d happily do it all over again if he could. Knowing his blue haired princess would live on was all he needed to go on in peace. The weight started to suffocate him as the cold gripped his heart like icy fingers. Light started to eat away at the edges of the inky darkness surrounding him. In the distance, he heard her voice. It was faint, but it was there. He smiled into the light as it consumed the remainder of the darkness. _Yes. He would do it all over again_.

 

***

 

The light of the early morning sun poured through Gajeel’s bedroom window, landing squarely on his face and pulling him from the dream. The first time he’d had the dream, he’d woken in a cold sweat. Everything had felt so real that he’d woken his foster dad at the time up in the middle of the night to ask him to check if he was, in fact, alive still. Granted, he’d been 10 years old at the time, but he couldn’t really be blamed for freaking out over the fact he’d literally felt what it was like to die. At 25 years old, he’d had the dream enough now to be used to it. It was actually a weird night if he didn’t have the dream. He almost missed it when he woke the next morning after not having it. 

 

A groan escaped his lips as he slung an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. _Just another day_ , he thought to himself, as he willed his body to let him go back to sleep. As if it was that easy. He’d never been one to be able to get back to sleep after he’d woken up, much to his dismay. The sound the city outside his window wasn’t helping much either as cars constantly honked, people yelled loudly and the occasional siren went past. Why he’d chosen to move to a big city was beyond him. He’d always hated huge cities, but something had just seemed right about this one. The feeling that drove him to move to the city was the same that drove him to do a lot of things. It always started as an idea that tickled the back of his mind, just barely there but there enough to always be on his mind. Then the feeling would grow until he couldn’t do anything else until he did whatever it was that had been on his mind.

 

Gajeel liked to think of it as his intuition, but he couldn’t ever shake the feeling that somehow the feeling and the dreamwere tied together. Shaking his head to clear his mind of that thought, he groaned again before rolling over to look at his alarm clock. It was 8am, far earlier than he wished to be up given he hadn’t gotten home from work until 3am. If being a bartender didn’t pay so well in tips, he would have ditched it long ago. Luckily, it did. 

 

As he stared into the alarm clock as if he could will the time to go backwards, he felt the dull ache at the back of his mind, urging him to go for a walk. _Of all the times to act up_. With an exasperated sigh, he reached towards his nightstand and grabbed his phone. If he was going to go out for a walk, he was at least going to make it worth it and get some coffee out of the deal. After punching the number in from memory, he pressed the phone to his ear and through his arm over his eyes again to keep himself from being blinded by that pesky sun.

 

“Thanks for calling Kiwi Tree Cafe, how can I help you?” A surprisingly deep voice answered. If Gajeel wasn’t so used to the ridiculousness of such a low tone saying something as absurd as “Kiwi Tree Cafe,” he would have laughed. 

 

“Hey Lily, ya take your break yet?” He asked without introduction. 

“Want to use me for my goods, I see,” his friend chuckled. Well, more like his brother, really. Gajeel had bounced around from foster home to foster home until he’d landed in one run by Lily’s surly sheriff father. He wasn’t sure what they’d seen in him, since he’d been in enough homes to know there wasn’t anything to see, but they’d kept him around anyway. He’d spent the rest of his time in the system with them, and he and Lily had been inseparable. 

 

“I’m just helping ya out, Lil,” he laughed. “You shouldn’t complain about having someone willing to try your weird new creations for free.” This elicited a sigh from the cafe owner.

 

“They aren’t weird, you just don’t have any taste,” Lily replied half jokingly. “But no, I haven’t. Be here by 9.” The line went dead before Gajeel could even reply. Typical Lily. Hoisting himself out of his bed, he felt the need to get outside grow stronger.

 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Gajeel sighed into the quiet that filled his apartment. It would actually be kind of nice to get out for some fresh air. It was Fall and the air had a nip of cold to it and the trees were covered in a beautiful array of orange, yellow and red leaves. If he was being honest, it was his favorite time of the year. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. He inspected his reflection as he raked his fingers through his unruly black hair in the closest attempt of taming it as he was going to make. The studs that ran in a row above both of his eyes and lined his nose glinted with the light from his bathroom lights. All in all, he didn’t look as tired as he felt, which was a plus. He was at least presentable enough for Lily to not send him out of his popular breakfast spot with a to-go bag. Leaving his bathroom, he snagged a pair of grey jeans and a frayed black knit sweater from his dresser. The feeling had grown further and was taking over all his thoughts as he tugged his sweater on. 

 

“Fuckin’ impatient,” he growled to himself. He was aware it was crazy to talk to a feeling, but, well, he did often wonder if he was crazy. With the feeling and the dream combined, he wouldn’t be too shocked if he was. After pulling on a pair of worn black boots, he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out the door. The thought that was wreaking havoc on his thoughts was already started to dissipate as he made his way down the stairs to the entrance of his building. It wasn’t until his foot hit the pavement outside his building that it disappeared entirely. The cool air rushed into his lungs, making him feel lighter. Breathing it in deeply, he thrust his hands into his pockets and turned right to head towards the cafe. It was only a couple of blocks from his apartment, which had been a stroke of luck for him when Lily had announced its location. As he made his way down the street, a familiar shade of blue caught his eye. It was just a quick flash as the woman rounded the corner ahead of him and disappeared around the other side of the building. A small spark of recognition fluttered through his chest, and was gone almost as quickly as she had been, yet it had been enough to stop him in his tracks. 

 

_What the hell was that?_

 

“Hey guy, keep movin’,” an angry voice said as someone knocked into his shoulder, knocking him out of his momentary stupor. With a quick shake of his head, Gajeel continued towards the Kiwi Tree Cafe.

 

***

 

“This is our Brazilian roast infused with kiwi and cocoa,” Lily said proudly as he sat across from Gajeel with two steaming cups of coffee and a tray samplers for all the pastries being served that day. “Meant to boost immunity and promote heart health. And before you say anything about how that sounds weird, just give it a try. It’s going to change your life.” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw Lily’s obsidian eyes light up as he talked about the strange drink. Truth be told, while Gajeel gave him a hard time, he’d never actually made anything he didn’t like. But what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t bust his balls from time to time. Not to mention the fact Lily was a 6’2 tall, muscular guy with inky black hair that spiked every which way and an undercut with a crescent moon scar that ran through his left eyebrow. He looked more like he would a bodyguard for a gangster than a pastry chef, so honestly, he made it too easy sometimes to pull his leg.

 

“Your obsession with kiwis is worrying,” was all he said as he picked up the cup and took a quick sip. As expected, the combination that shouldn’t work at all was delicious. Lily’s ability to make a damn good cup of coffee was inspiring, not that he could tell him that. “It doesn’t make me want to die, anyway,” was what he ended up saying. His brother shook his head as he took another sip of his own cup.

 

“You’re in denial, but I’ll take it. Now, are you going to tell me what’s up?” The question caused Gajeel to stop with his coffee midway to his mouth.

 

“What do you mean?” Lily eyed him suspiciously.

 

“Well, when you came in here you looked like you’d seen a ghost,” he replied, still staring at his brother as if he could just lift the answer straight from his mind. Gajeel hadn’t been aware he’d looked as shocked as he’d felt by the brief glance of the blue haired woman. 

 

“It’s nothing,” was all he said, hoping Lily would drop it.

 

“That dream again?” Lily had known about the dream for almost as long as he’d known Gajeel thanks to a particularly bad night when he’d woken up yelling for someone he hadn’t known. His brother took his silence as an answer. “Any luck finding the blue haired dream girl?” One of the best things about Lily was that though they’d grown old enough to know better than to believe that his dream was anything other than just that, he’d always held onto the notion that the blue haired girl really was out there somewhere. Whenever Gajeel found himself questioning his sanity about the whole thing, he at least knew he could count on Lily to make him feel that maybe the dreams weren’t a sign of some psychosis. Right now, though, it felt eerily like he was reading Gajeel’s mind.

 

“Not yet,” he said, his tone sounding wrong even to his own ears. The pastry chef opened his mouth to say something else when a young man wearing an apron with Kiwi Tree Cafe embroidered across the chest. Gajeel didn’t recognize him, which most likely meant he was new in to the cafe. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened his mouth.

 

“Uh, Mr.-” 

 

“Call me Lily,” his brother said, cutting off the young guy, whose expression became comically confused. 

 

“Lily?” He said flatly. Gajeel bit back a laugh. It wasn’t the first time anyone had questioned how Lil had gotten his nickname. It was one of his favorite stories to tell, much to his brother’s dismay. The poor guy had gotten completely hammered one night when they’d been troublesome teenagers and gone on a tirade about how strange panther lilies looked. He had been so offended by the look of the flower that he had managed to talk about them until he’d passed out for the night. The next morning, the sheriff had decided calling him Panther Lily for all his days would be punishment enough for his indiscretion, which soon turned to Lily and well, the rest was history. Given the way he was glaring at Gajeel meant now was not a time he would be able to get away with telling the tale though.

 

“What is it, Droy?” Lily asked, opting to ignore the new baker’s confused inquiry. 

 

“Oh, uh, I think I broke the mixer. Again,” Droy said sheepishly. Lily sighed loudly before turning back to Gajeel.

 

“Droy, you’ve literally been here for four hours, how is that possible?” The question seemed to be rhetorical as Lily stood up and turned his attention back to Gajeel. “Well, duty calls. Mind taking the dishes to the back when you’re done?” 

 

“Using me for free labor,” Gajeel chuckled. 

 

“I’ll call us even, then,” Lily said as he headed towards the kitchen behind the counter. “Oh, and Gajeel?” He called back before he disappeared behind the kitchen doors.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Stay out of trouble, would ya?” There was a strange look in Lily’s eyes as he appraised him from behind the counter. It wasn’t really like him to warn Gajeel about keeping his nose out of trouble, especially since whenever he got in trouble, it was usually with his brother by his side. Blue hair suddenly flashed across his mind’s eye.

 

“I’ll try my best,” was all he said as he took another sip of his coffee.

***********************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all, I am on a damn roll right now lol Lemme just hit you with ALL the Kingdom at once XD

If there was anything Levy McGarden knew for certain, it was that she was not about to admit defeat to this library. The book she wanted was there, and dammit she was not going to leave until she found it. She pulled her cornflower hair back, preparing for an all out war against the unending shelves of books. The restricted area in the library was one of her favorite places in the building. It was almost deafeningly quiet, which would set some people on edge, but she found to soothe her. Only professors and a select few grad students were allowed general access to the restricted area, as the books there weren’t just mere books, but artifacts. Their pages held tales from times so far in the past they’d been long forgotten. Amongst the ancient leather and deteriorating paper, Levy truly felt at home. She’d always loved myths and legends, something she had gotten from her mother. Before she’d died when Levy was eight years old, her mother loved to tell her epic fantasies that she’d say was passed down through their family.

 

“The McGarden’s were keepers of tales, you know,” her mother always used to say with a bright smile before launching into a story. Levy’s favorite had always been the tale of the prince who fell in love with one of the subjects of his kingdom. As the story goes, he had been returning from a hunt one day with his royal guard when he’d seen her walking through the town, and that had been it. He would sneak out every day to see her, and every day his guard would come to take him back home to his father where he’d receive punishment for disappearing. Then one day his father, the king, fell ill and wished for the prince to ascend to the throne and take a lady of a neighboring kingdom as his wife. The prince knew what he had to do, but still he visited his love every day until the their final day together before the wedding. 

 

“This isn’t a sad story though,” her mom always said with a quick ruffle of Levy’s hair when she saw the sadness in her honey eyes. “They truly loved each other and on that last day they made sure their love was known. Some love may last a lifetime, and some love may only last a fleeting moment. It isn’t the length of the love, but the depth, and their love sat deep within their bones. Loving each other had been as easy as breathing, and they knew they would love each other until the end of their days.” 

 

Yes, it was her favorite story, and she always could tell it was her mom’s favorite too. Every time she told it, her eyes would twinkle and she’d tell it with so much passion that Levy could almost imagine her mother had been there. It was that same passion that pushed her to get her master’s in mythological studies. The stories she studied never ceased to comfort her the same way her mother’s stories had, and amongst the dusty, leather bound works it almost felt as if her mom was still there with her. 

 

That, and apparently she just really loved the thrill of the hunt. She’d been digging through the shelves for hours now, and still hadn’t made in headway in finding the volume that she knew housed the story she was looking for. It was there, she could feel it deep down in her bones. Not to mention she’d seen it before. The problem was it blended in well with every other dark, leather bound book in the restricted area and she just couldn’t seem to remember where it had been last. Pushing her step ladder over to the next set of shelves, Levy climbed up and reached for a promising looking aspect. She held her breath as she pulled it from its home.

 

This was.... 

 

Not it. Her frustrated groan echoed around her.

 

“I’m sure you guys are just getting a kick out of this,” she hissed at the books as she went to push the collection back into its place. Suddenly time stilled as her eyes caught sight of another tome falling towards the ground from the other end of the shelf. The book hit the ground with a heavy thud and a small cloud of dust, falling open to a random page. Levy tensed up, staring at the fallen tome and waiting for the hurried footsteps of a librarian that would inevitably lecture her on the age of the books in the lower levels. Like she wasn’t already aware that she was privileged that she even got to be in the same room as some of these books. She wasn’t sure how the book had fallen, certain that she hadn’t knocked into the bookcase at all, and even if she had it wouldn’t have been enough to knock a book from it’s shelves. 

 

The librarian never came, and she let out a sigh of relief before hopping down from her step stool to pick up the leather bound volume. Her eyes danced across the page it’d fallen open to, a shiver running down her spine as she took in the painted surface. On it was a knight in black armor with wild onyx hair to match. His eyes were red as blood and stared up at her from the where the book rested. She lightly drew her fingers over the page, tracing the intricate design of the dragon etched into his breastplate. The artist did a truly magnificent job. Levy wasn’t sure what story the unknown knight was from, but she could tell the artist had taken care in doing him justice. Picking up the book, she carefully closed it only to find that it was what she’d been looking for. 

 

“Well that was lucky,” she chuckled into the silence. She’d known the collection of medievaltales was in this library. Hugging the old tome to her chest, she breathed in the old book smell. Call her weird, but she’d always loved the smell of paper and ink. After making sure she’d put the step ladder back in the corner in which it belonged, she headed out of the restricted area. The door clicked shut as it automatically locked behind her. 

 

“Until next time,” Levy said under her breath before taking the stairs two at a time to get out from the lower level of the library. The light from the sun that filtered through the overhead windows nearly blinded her when she reached the main hall of the building. She really had been down there for far too long. 

 

“So did you find what you were looking for?” The head librarian asked cheerfully as she appeared suddenly beside her. The sunlight glinted off her silvery white hair and it almost looked as if her light skin was glowing. Levy always wondered how someone so ethereal looking ended up in a job like head librarian instead of model, but who was she to judge. 

 

“I did, thank you, Mirajane!” She said with a smile as she held out the book to her. “Mind checking me out?” 

 

“Not at all,” the librarian said fondly as she the old volume from her hands carefully. Mirajane’s eyes widened as she took in the cover. With a touch as light as a feather, she stroked the leather. Her blue eyes flickered to look up at Levy quickly and then back at the book before she started to head towards the front desk. 

 

“Do you know this one?” Levy questioned, wondering what that had been about. 

 

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Mirajane said, her cheerful tone slipping slightly as she scanned the book. “I just thought it looked like one that wasn’t allowed to leave the library is all.” Her tone returned to it’s upbeat nature. _It’s nothing_ , Levy thought to herself as she handed over her student ID. _I’ve just been down with the books for too long_. After scooping the book back up, she thanked the librarian and headed toward the front door, unaware of Mirajane’s somber stare as she walked out of the library.

 

***

 

There was a chill in the air that nipped at her nose and warned of the impending winter that was soon to follow. Holding the book closer to her chest almost as if she was protecting it from the cold, she waited for the light to change so she could cross the street. A familiar sensation of being watched danced across her skin. Normally she wouldn’t have tried to find the eyes that caused the goosebumps to race across her arms. She was used to the feeling. Ever since she could remember she’d randomly feel the stare of someone that wasn’t there. When she was younger, she’d tell her mom she felt like she was being watched just to be told she was being silly, and after being told you’re silly so many times you start to think you are. It had been some time since she’d felt eyes upon her, and she had started to think that she no longer needed to worry about the phantom eyes that watched her. 

 

There was something different about these goosebumps though. Wherein she normally felt a small seed of fear take root in her veins, this time she felt a slow burn of yearning deep within her. That’s when she saw him. Standing on the other side of the street was a man staring at her, mouth slightly agape in shocked recognition. Silver studs lined both sides of his nose and his eyebrows, and his raven hair framed his angular face. She felt her own mouth drop as an electric current ignited across her skin, eliciting a small gasp from her lips. A smile tugged on one side of his mouth almost as if he heard it. He looked dangerous and beautiful at the same time, causing her to feel almost like she imagined a mouse felt when faced with a black mamba. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to look away, holding his gaze as a small tug of familiarity buzzed at the back of her mind. 

 

Then the light changed, breaking the spell.

 

With the feeling of his eyes still on her, she hurriedly stepped into the street, completely unaware of the truck that was barreling towards her.

*******************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	4. Chapter Three

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time Gajeel had found himself in front of a speeding vehicle. It was the first time he wasn’t the speeding vehicle’s target though, which he was going to chalk up as a win. At least, as much of a win as it could be given it would also most likely end with him splattered across the pavement. Time seemed to stand still as he felt himself wonder how in the hell he had ended up there, throwing himself in front of a vehicle to save a stranger.

 

He’d awakened that morning with the usual groan and the familiar dread that spread through his chest from his dream. The amount of time it felt he was in the darkness of death was growing each day, and along with it the sense of despair. If he didn’t quite know better, he’d wonder if at some point he’d stop waking from it at all. A strong hand rubbed across his face in an attempt to brush the sleep-- and melodramatic thoughts for that matter-- from his eyes. It was fruitless to try and stay in bed, a fact he knew all too well, and loathed with every fiber of his being, so he pushed himself out of the nest of blankets and pillows and headed to the bathroom. The light flickered to life and illuminated the small space of the cramped room, reflecting off the mirror. 

 

His reflection stared back at him, only it wasn’t him. 

 

In his place stood a faceless shadow of a man, with burning red eyes that struck a spike of fear through his heart. Adorned in black armor, Gajeel felt a sense a familiarity as he took in the intricately carved dragon that curved across the breast plate and fixed him with a matching, angry gaze. It’s scales were outlined with flecks of gold, giving it a near regal look. Scratches ran all along the armor, each telling a story that he was certain he knew, and yet couldn’t quite remember. He was paralyzed under the glare of the red eyes as the darkness that was cast across the specter's face started to twist and fade. 

 

As it dissipated it first revealed a mouth that was twisted into an unimpressed scowl, wild black hair, and then a glint of metal studs that stood out against the tanned skin. It felt as an icy hand gripped his heart, knocking the wind out of his lungs when he realized that standing before him, was a different version of himself. The crimson glare softened in his other self’s eyes as they sized each other up. Something about the way his mirror self was looking at him made Gajeel’s blood run cold. What was this? Everything felt so foreign and yet, just on the outreaches of his subconscious it felt as if the answer was there plain as day. He hadn’t realized he’d reached his hand out to touch the specter until his fingertips brushed the cold, smooth metal of the armor.

 

A heavy weight settled in the silence of the bathroom as the walls started to fall away from around them, leaving them standing in inky darkness. Shadowy tendrils licked across their skin as if they were trying to find a way to latch onto them. Slowly, holding Gajeel’s attention, his copy looked down towards his chest. A bright light started to spill from one of the scars on the breastplate located just over his other self’s heart, pushing back the shadows that had started to descend on the armor. Gajeel’s stomach turned at the sharp stab of despair that filled his gut causing the acrid taste of bile to rise in his throat. It felt almost like the feeling of the dream, only magnified tenfold, and suddenly he felt as if he was suffocating. His arms started to burn where the shadows started to stain his skin ebony with their touch. Everything hurt so much, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away from his mirror self.

 

A small, sorrow filled smile tugged at the corners of the reflection’s mouth as he looked up at Gajeel.

 

“Save her.”

 

The hollow voice carried the words through the darkness and as quickly as it had appeared, the vision was gone. Air burst into his lungs as he choked on the bitter despair. Gajeel had never thought he’d be so happy to find himself on the floor of his bathroom before as he breathed heavily, hungry gasps pulling in as much air into his lungs as they could. 

 

“Who is she?” He tried to scream out to the vision, only succeeding in a breathless gasp that reached no one. Angrily, he punched his hand into the old tile of the bathroom floor, enjoying the sharp tang of pain that buzzed across the skin of his knuckles. Gajeel stared down at the skin of the fist, almost certain he would see the stain from the black shadows scrawled across his skin. Nothing but his usual tan clung to his complexion and relief blossomed in his chest. His mind raced in an attempt to piece together what had just happened. The obvious explanation was that he had still been half asleep when he’d made his way to the bathroom and found himself in a waking dream. Yet, as he grabbed the edge of the counter and pulled himself off the ground and eyed the mirror, he couldn’t help but feel like it had been a little too real. 

 

Gajeel stared into his reflection as if trying to pull any evidence of the vision into being. A pang of heat seared across the left side of his chest. Over his heart, stood a slightly darker strip of flesh that was about four inches long. He’d had the strange birthmark all his life, and had never paid it any mind, and it had never given him any cause to. Rubbing it gently, he tried to shake the vision of the light that poured from the copy’s armor from his mind. After a few moments, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and let his hand drop from the mark. A dream. That’s all it was. 

 

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

 

_Save her_. Those two words kept swirling around in his head as if to taunt him. He didn’t know who she was, and yet he couldn’t help but feel who ever she was, she was connected to the blue haired princess from the dream. If only his damn dreams weren’t so cryptic, maybe he could actually fulfill their wish of saving her. His head was throbbing by the time he was able to uproot himself from where he stood in front of his bathroom mirror. A quick glance at his phone showed that he’d somehow lost about three hours to the vision and the subsequent mental freakout that followed. The thought that he could lose so much time without realizing it set him on edge. 

 

_Save her_.

 

In an attempt at restoring normalcy and easing the pain that pulsed through his skull, Gajeel got into the shower, turning the heat of the water as high as it would go so the burning sting of the water would replace the confused thoughts swirling through his mind. After the spray ran cold, he wrapped his fluffy grey towel around his waist and padded back into the living area of his apartment. The cool air from the air conditioning raised the hair on his arms, but it was a welcome distraction as he made his way to the kitchen in search of food. The disappointing sight of the  butt ends of some bread, three ketchup packets and a questionable bottle of what was once a cherry coke greeted him and his growling stomach. 

 

“Great,” he snarled at the remnants of food before he slammed the door shut. This was shaping up to be a fantastic morning. The lack of food and his ever rising irritation was how he found himself outside, black leather jacket clinging to his frame as he thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his ripped blue jeans. Cool air burnt his lungs that still ached from the earlier deprivation of oxygen. Outside of his apartment and in the hustle and bustle of the city, the vision seemed more like a distant memory than something that had happened just earlier that morning. It wasn’t distant enough to let him relax, but at least he no longer felt like he was being haunted by phantom crimson eyes and shadows. It hadn’t been until he’d turned toward the street to cross that the incident entirely slipped his mind, because there just on the other side of where he stood was a shock a all too familiar blue hair.

 

_Save her_.

 

The words were a bit louder as his gaze settled upon her. She was the blue haired princess. He hadn’t ever actually seen her face in his dreams, but he knew that shade of blue, and every part of his body screamed with recognition. His breath caught in his throat as she looked up, her honey colored gaze meeting his crimson one. A pink blush brushed across her cheeks as she tightened her grip on the book that she’d had in her arms pressed against her chest.

 

_Save her._ The copy’s echoed through his mind as he continued to stare, unable to tear his gaze from her. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. It almost looked as if light radiated from her as she stood there on the street corner, hair held back with a bright yellow scarf and in a knee length green peacoat. He watched her as the light changed, signaling pedestrians to cross. His eyes followed her as she looked down at the street as she stepped down from the ledge. A loud blare of a horn finally broke him of his trance, and made time stop. Her head snapped up to look in the direction of the blare coming from the delivery truck that was barreling down the street, straight towards her and the intersection. He watched as she froze, mouth falling open as she stared straight into the grill of the truck that would inevitably hit her if she didn’t move.

 

**_Save her._ **

 

The words were a booming cry as they ordered him into action. Gajeel hadn’t ever moved so quickly in his life.  What had started as a grocery run was now ending with him chasing death in the form of a nondescript white delivery truck.  Willing his feet to move him as fast as they could to close the distance between them, he felt her solid form hit his chest as he closed his arms around her and used the momentum to throw them both out of the way. The last thing he heard was a scream, and the blare of the truck horn.

 

***

 

All things considered, Levy thought being hit by a car would hurt more than it did. She’d noticed the vehicle racing towards her after it had already been too late, giving her just enough time to think about how Mirajane was going to kill her for getting one of her books destroyed. The blare of the horn deafened her and she screwed her eyes shut to the sound, the sight of the delivery truck’s grill burned into the back of her eyelids as the last thing she’d ever see. As she was hit, she felt a warmth encircle her as what felt like two arms wrapped around her waist. What should have felt like a violent and brutal twisting of bone and metal felt almost like the embrace of a lover. Her mind raced as it tried to catch up with what was happening. _Maybe it’s shock_ , she thought to herself as she felt her back hit the ground. The breath in her lungs was pushed out violently with the force of the impact. At least that seemed about right for what was happening. A high pitched ringing filled her ears, almost drowning out the sound of the ragged breathing that was stirring the hair just at the shell of her right ear. Almost. Suddenly she was all too aware of the warm solid weight that was pressed against her chest, shoving the corners of the book she still clutched to her chest into her body. Her eyes shot open as she thrust her knee reflexively into the gut of the body that laid on top of her, capturing her between his body and the pavement. The motion was met with a loud and short grunt of pain as the man rolled off of her and onto the ground beside her.

 

“So that’s the thanks a guy gets, huh?” The stranger wheezed, staring up at the sky as his arms wrapped protectively around his middle. She felt her eyes widen as they traced his face, realizing that he was the man that had been across the street. Trying to stop from staring too long, she turned her attention to the scene around them. They were both laying safely on the sidewalk as curious bystanders started to gather around them to check on their wellbeing. Levy made note of the fact that the delivery truck seemed nowhere to be found. 

 

“You alright?” His voice was still a bit breathless, but the stranger from across the street was now fixing his gaze on her once again. This close she could see that his eyes were endless pools of crimson. The metal in his eyebrow quirked in concern as she stared. Heat colored her cheeks as she hurriedly pushed herself up and set the book on her lap.

 

“I- I’m fine. Are you?” Levy’s voice sounded painfully squeaky, even to her own ears. Her heart was beating harder in her chest now than it had when she’d seen the vehicle baring down on her. Wait. “Did you- did you seriously just jump in front of a delivery truck?” Gleeful light danced in his eyes as the man also sat up, shooing away one particularly curious looking bystander that had gone to help him up. 

 

“I think you technically jumped in front of it first,” he chuckled as he rubbed his ribcage. “I was fine until ya attacked me.” The smile that accompanied the statement made her mind run blank. Levy was certain she’d never seen this man before and yet something about the way he smiled at her felt like the most natural and familiar thing in the world. Something deep in her chest told her that she’d do anything to see him smile again. 

 

“Why would you do that?” She heard herself ask, almost as shocked about the question as he seemed to be. A moment passed as he looked away from her.

 

“I don’t know.” It was almost a whisper, as if the answer wasn’t meant for her as the man questioned himself as to why he’d literally throw himself into traffic to save someone he didn’t know. As quickly as the confusion had crossed his face, it was gone as he looked back up at her as if he could pull the answer from her. The voices of the people surrounding them started to grow distant as they began to disperse after seeing that the couple was okay. The man started to standing, brushing the dirt from his jeans and making a low, disgruntled noise when he saw the scratches in the leather of his jacket from where his arms had dragged against the concrete. Levy watched as he shook his head and then held a hand out to her to help her stand. There was a beat before she took it, allowing herself to be pulled up from the ground. An electric shock shot up her arm from the touch, eliciting a gasp as goosebumps raced across her skin. His wide eyes said that the stranger had felt it as well. As soon as she was standing, he took his hand back, staring at it as he flexed his fingers and rubbed at the skin with his other hand. 

 

This was the point where she would thank him for saving her, and he would say something lame like “You’re welcome” and then they would go their separate ways and never see each other again. That’s how it should go anyway, but her stomach flipped at the idea of letting him walk away. Something was so familiar about him. Being near him had felt like she’d found something she hadn’t even realized she’d lost, and the very idea of losing it again had her stomach in knots. 

 

“What’s your name?” Levy’s voice wavered slightly as she fixed her honey gaze on him. He returned the gaze and the strange electrically charged air filled the space between them. 

 

“Gajeel,” he answered simply after a moment of contemplation. Another piece seemed to fall into place in her mind, as her brain registered the name she’d never heard and yet made the blood in her veins sing. Levy pulled the book back up to her chest and hugged it to her chest again, using it as a shield as if to stop him from seeing the way her heart was hammering against her chest. 

 

“Well, Gajeel, can I thank you with a cup of coffee?” The smile returned to his face at the question. It was another kickstart to her heart that rammed against her ribcage as she waited for his answer.

 

“Coffee sounds great.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, when I started this chapter, I wasn't too huge of a fan. But then I sat on it for a couple days and returned and now I actually feel pretty damn good about it lol So hopefully you thought it was pretty aight :)
> 
> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY CHAPTER FOUR! Y'all are getting this earlier than tumblr, shhhhh don't tell them lol The big ol’ italicized portion is Levy reading the story from the book. Yeah. Anyway, not much too say about this one lol The whole beginning is probably one of my favorite things I’ve written, so needless to say, I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! THANK YOU GUYS AS ALWAYS FOR READING!
> 
> ALSO, I'm going to be out of town 9/14-9/18 to celebrate my birthday with my besties and won't be writing. IF I can stick with my writing schedule, I'll be able to get in one more update by Sunday/Monday of this upcoming week. Hoooowever I'm also working on ITTB, and I've got another project I've got under my belt that I'd like to get started before I leave just for my own peace of mind. I'm gonna try my hardest, however this MAY be the last update for Kingdom until the week of 9/18.

The cup of coffee tucked comfortably in her hands warmed her palms as she stared down into the swirling foam that formed a minuscule milky way in the brown liquid. Sitting against her arm was the aged book of myths, the feel of the solid tome against her skin giving her some comfort. Levy wasn’t normally one to need something to ground her but sitting across from her wild haired, crimson eyed savior, she felt light enough to float away. As soon as he’d agreed to going to the coffee shop with her as a thanks for saving her life, a bubble of elation had drifted upwards into her chest. The buoyant feeling had fizzled through her body, invading her limbs and her senses until her nerves crackled and popped with it. Gajeel being there was as sudden and jarring as the accident he had prevented. Just ten minutes prior she hadn’t even known who he was, and now it felt as if everything around her was touched by his very existence. His presence alone was enough to leave jagged lines of familiar fascination etched across her skin much like the inevitable scars she would have received if she’d been hit by that delivery truck. A phantom memory danced just outside her grasp, taunting her as it filled her with deep yearning as if her body knew the man sitting confidently across from her. She couldn’t even manage to look up at his garnet colored gaze without feeling as if she was being burnt from the inside by heated desire.

 

It was, for lack of a better term, annoying. 

 

Levy didn’t like not knowing things, and in that moment she really didn’t know why she felt the desperate need to reach across the two and a half feet of coffee shop table and stroke the handsome man’s face. The pleasant hum of his voice as he answered what he did for a living caressed her sense of sound as she continued to stare into the coffee as if it would bring her the answers she needed. No matter how hard she willed for them to come, they never did. Figures. She lifted the cup to her lips to take a sip, effectively disbanding the foamy galaxy that had decorated her coffee.

 

“So do you come here often?” Gajeel asked, breaking her concentration. He stifled a laugh as she spluttered into her cup, pink coloring her cheeks and making the golden hazel of her eyes stand out. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

 

“It depends, if I say yes will you think I have a caffeine dependency?” Levy fixed him with her molten gold stare. If he didn’t know better, Gajeel would have sworn she stared straight through to his heart that was beating wildly against his ribcage. 

 

“Not at all, just curious.” An underlying tone colored his voice, almost as if it were an inside joke that she wasn’t a part of. She watched as he dragged his finger along the Kiwi Tree Cafe logo on his cup with a small smile touching the corners of his lips. A small part of Gajeel wondered where Lily was on this day. A larger part didn’t care.

 

“Well then I’d have to tell you you’re a bad judge of character, because I do have a bit of a caffeine problem,” she laughed as she took another drag from her own cup. It sounded more like a nervous laugh to her, but if her companion noticed, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. “You need one to apply to graduate school.” The joke elicited a barking laugh from the man on the opposite end of the table, which caused her pop rock nerves to crackle all over again. With his head thrown back in raucous laughter, she couldn’t help but noticed the way the tan of his skin popped against the grey of the henley he’d revealed when he’d taken his leather jacket off. Her eyes traced the line of his Adam’s apple thoughtfully, drinking him in before his crimson stare landed on her again and burnt down to her bones. The feeling of annoyance continued to combat the feeling of desire that was making a home low in her gut. 

 

They’re conversation continued, bouncing back and forth between them much like a verbal tennis match. When one didn’t think the other was looking, they’d steal glances of them like thieves, only lingering long enough to take what they wanted. 

 

“So ya mentioned graduate school, what’re you studying?” Levy was taken aback by the question. She’d just been in the middle of asking him about his family when he’d shot out the question instead of giving her an answer. A beat passed by as she considered how to answer his question. Most people didn’t care to hear about her major, and when they did ask what it was, they normally didn’t care enough to continue listening about it. Not that it was a boring topic by any means, it’s just that most people had lost their love for the words that Levy held so dear. 

 

“Mythological studies,” she fired back, sitting taller in her seat as she switched into her academic mindset. Gajeel quirked an eyebrow, inviting her to continue her explanation. “I have a theory that myths and legends are all true, they’ve just been twisted in the way their original storytellers were able to explain the things they’d seen.” Levy couldn’t help the excitement that started to creep into her voice. If there was anything that got her blood pumping, it was talking about her studies.

 

“I’m not sure I follow.” His eyebrows were knit together as he tried to keep up with her enthusiastic chatter.

 

“Like disease and how it could be explained away as magic,” she said matter-of-factly. “Or,” she paused as she looked down at the book next to her, a spark dancing in her eyes. “Can I show you the subject of my next paper?” All he needed to do was nod for her to grab the book and start leafing through it in search of the tale.

 

Gajeel marveled at the excitement that was written across Levy’s face as her delicate hands flipped through the pages of the leather bound book she had with her. Pictures flashed by as the pages fell one-by-one as she searched for the myth she wished to show him, some of landscapes, others of animals, one of a particularly familiar black suit of armor. He shook his head to push the image of the armor from this morning out of his mind. Finally, she stopped once she’d found what she’d been looking for, eyes practically glowing as she stared down at the words scrawled across the yellowing paper. A smile parted her lips as she started to speak, reading the words aloud for him to hear. Levy’s voice carried the words like a song he could listen to on repeat.

 

_There once was a fearsome dragon made of iron that was said to wreak havoc on towns bordering the kingdom and killing all that opposed him. It was said his scales were made of black, twisted metal and his eyes were fiery rubies that could paralyze a man with a single glare. There was also once a lonely prince who wanted nothing more than to find a friend that wasn’t blinded but what he could offer as the future king._

 

_The lonely prince was known for disappearing from his kingdom to explore the land, wanting nothing more than to escape the world of responsibility he’d been born into. He told his father it was his duty as the future ruler to know more about the lands that would once be his, but really he had hoped he would meet someone who would befriend him for who he was, and not who he would eventually be._

 

_One rainy day, as luck would have it, he met the iron dragon._

 

_It came as a shock for the prince to find that the cruel iron dragon was nothing but kind as he offered him shelter in his cave away from the storm. The hulking creature wasn’t covered in sickeningly twisted iron like the stories had said, but black steel scales that glittered like the night sky. As the prince entered the cave, the dragon created a small fire for him so that he may dry off and stay warm. Though the dragon kept to himself, the prince felt a kindred spirit within the creature. Once the rain had let up, the prince left with a small thank you and a promise to visit again._

 

_He returned the next day to find the dragon still there, a small fire already burning for him. They sat together in silence again, the prince enjoying the company that the dragon had to offer. As time past, they continued the ritual. Everyday the prince would come to visit, and each day the dragon would wait faithfully with a fire already burning. He would listen as the prince told him of his fears of becoming his father, a man who ruled with fear and anger. Though he never said anything after that first day when he’d invited the prince in from the rain, the iron dragon never gave the prince any cause to fear him or feel as if he passed any judgement on him._

 

_Then one day as the prince was visiting, a band of thieves came upon the cave in search of a treasure that they’d heard the dragon had been hiding. Upon recognizing the prince, they attacked him._

 

_“Imagine how much we could get for the crown prince,” one of the thieves mused as he had rushed towards the young man. Blinded by his lust for riches, the thief didn’t see as the iron dragon launched an attack of his, not noticing until he’d already been enclosed within the dragon’s mouth. As he protected the prince, the young man looked on in awe. It was the only time he’d truly seen the iron dragon live up to the stories, and yet he was not scared. Even with blood staining his shimmering scales, he still saw nothing but his friend. While his friend continued his attack, neither noticed as one of the thieves slipped away and ran to the nearest town._

 

_Once at the town, the thief wove the grandest lie of them all and told the inhabitants that the iron dragon had taken the crown prince. It wasn’t long before the townspeople gathered up weapons and took towards the forest, heading for the dragon’s cave. There they were met with the gore from the thieves attack, and the sight of the prince with blood on his hands as he tried to wipe the muck from the dragon’s scales. The townspeople descended on them, the prince’s cries to stop falling on deaf ears as they overcame the dragon and his friend. Their spears pierced the dragon’s scales, cut deep beneath the protective armor, causing his cries of pain to echo through the cave._

 

_It wasn’t until the dragon lay motionless on the ground that they finally stopped their attack. The prince lashed out, pushing the townspeople away as he ran to his friend. His hand brushed against the dragon’s head, his eyes shut to the world as he laid in his own blood. A fury rose within him unlike any emotion he’d ever felt. The prince flew into a rage, his cry more animal than human as he grabbed a spear that had fallen to the ground before turning his anger towards the villagers. Fear filled cries erupted from the group as he he came down upon them, the light of his madness glowing in his eyes. To them, he looked like a demon; the true personification of death itself._

 

_“My dear friend,” the deep rumbling voice of the dragon echoed through the cave, halting the prince’s assault on the townspeople. It was the first time the dragon had spoken to him since that fateful day._

 

_“Do not punish these people for fearing the unknown.” His breathing came in rasps as he struggled to get air into his lungs. Tears welled up within the prince’s eyes as he approached the dying dragon and placed a trembling hand against his head. “Do not let their prejudices and your anger defeat you. You will be a great king, my dear friend.”_

 

_It was the last the iron dragon spoke. With a deep, shuddering breath, his friend died. The villagers watched as the prince cried over the dragon, unsure of how to react to his grief. It wasn’t until the king showed up that the prince stopped, allowing himself to be silently taken back home._

 

_Time passed, and the throne was passed to the prince after his father’s death. Though no one mentioned the iron dragon to the now king again, he carried his friend’s memory with him. The prince became known as a just king and was loved by all in his kingdom, yet he never did find another friend like the iron dragon._

 

_Many years later, the king decided to visit the cave he had spent so much time in with his friend. It looked very much the same, if a bit overgrown with earth and moss. As he stood outside the cave, a glint from inside caught his eye. Very carefully, his picked his way through the vines and moss that had stretched across the opening._

 

_There, within the cave, the king found a sleeping, iron dragon._

 

Gajeel had let himself become lost in the tale of the iron dragon and the prince. Something in the way Levy’s voice had wrapped around the words had drawn him in. As she had spoken, he could see the very forest the prince had been in when he’d met the dragon in the cave. He could smell the bark on the trees, and could feel the warmth of the burning fire that the prince had felt. Gajeel could even feel the pain of the dragon he had been attacked for protecting his friend. As the story had come to a close, the vivid imagery was replaced by the vision of his other self and the black armor he’d worn. Something about the dragon etched into the armor seemed so befitting of the tale.

 

Levy shut the book with a light pat to the cover, the sound causing him to jump slightly in his seat. A triumphant smile pulled the corner of her mouth up as she took in the look of awe that was etched across his face. 

 

“You’re very good at story telling.” The compliment won him another smile, this one brighter as she kept the book within her hands. 

 

“I get it from my mother,” she replied simply, her voice soft as she stared lovingly down at the leather cover of the tome. A beat passed between them as he waited for her to speak again.

 

“So, my theory,” her voice brightened as she changed the subject. “Is that the iron dragon wasn’t a dragon at all, but a person.” She continued as she pushed the book to the side, returning it to its home nestled against her arm. 

 

“It would be so easy for his alias of ‘Iron Dragon’ to be miscommunicated as an iron dragon. Do you know how much could be learned about forgotten history if we could just prove that myths and legends were true stories that had been told incorrectly?” 

 

Without anything in her hands to occupy them, Levy started gesticulating excitedly. Gajeel propped his elbow onto the table and balanced his chin on the palm of his hand as he listened to her wax poetic about mythology and the topic for her paper. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone so passionate about anything before, except maybe Lily over kiwis and coffee. To be honest, he wasn’t sure it was really the same. The air around her practically vibrated with her excitement, and she glowed with the very exuberance that ran through her veins. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch that light. A dull ache settled deep within his bones as he continued to listen to the excited hum of her words.

 

It wasn’t until the sun sat low in the sky, casting shadows across their long forgotten coffee cups through the large window of the shop, that either of them realized how long they’d been sitting in the cafe. Time had slipped away from them as they had been wrapped up within the easiness of the conversation and the strange familiarity that tugged at both of them. Silence settled over them as the words dried up and they were left appraising each other. A spark of electricity popped between them as their eyes met in a duel of honey and ruby.

 

“Well, I should probably get going.” Levy broke the eye contact as she tucked her blue hair behind her ear. “Thank you. For saving me.” Her breath hitched as he unleashed his dangerous smile on her.

 

“It was my pleasure,” he rumbled as he watched her pull her jacket on and wind her scarf around her neck. His heart sank as she stood and picked the book. A small voice in the back of his head screamed at him to keep her there, if only for a moment longer. He pushed the voice down as she smiled at him in response before walking away. 

 

As Levy left, book in hand and scarf pooled around her neck to batter the chill in the outside air, she didn’t notice the way Gajeel’s eyes followed her until she disappeared past the window’s view. As he sat at the table, fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his cup, he didn’t notice the purple eyes that watched him from the back of the coffee shop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested in BTS and sneak peeks-- or ramblings as I write lol-- follow my writing twitter @ODMwrites :)
> 
> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	6. Interlude- Once Upon A Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE GUESS WHO IS OFFICIALLY AHEAD AND SCHEDULE AND GOT IN THAT SECOND UPDATE BEFORE LEAVING! THIS GIIIIIIIRL! Anyway, y’all, please suspend your knowledge of Makarov for this fic and imagine him like Yuri and Laxus lol Kthanksbye. Also, I’ve been feelin’ this space talk for explaining things, if you couldn’t tell. Catch me using space terminology in everything I’ve written this week. 
> 
> PS- I actually made myself pretty sad writing this lol

Ileana McGarden was born to a family was storytellers that lived just outside the town bordering the castle of the king of Fiore. They’d never known a wealthy life, but what they did not have in riches they made up for with words. The multitude of stories they had at their disposal rivaled that of even the history keepers that lived in the kingdom. People would travel from all over the countryside just to hear the histories of the land they lived within brought to life through their retelling. It was the stories they wove that made them enough to survive, and what they could not pay for with what they’d earned, they could do without.

 

When the time had come for Ileana to take over the reins as the storyteller, she was 18 years old, and she was regarded highly not only for the words she recounted but also for her beauty. Standing in the town square under the golden sun, her hair would sparkle and shine a brilliant aquamarine that would put any jewel to shame. Many asked for her hand in marriage, and those same many were refused. Stories were the love of Ileana McGarden’s life. 

 

So everyday, she went out to the town square to captivate her audience with the tales her family had gathered over their existence, and everyday she would refuse the poor man that had thought he’d be the one to capture her attention in the way those stories had. 

 

It had been a particularly sunny Sunday when all of that changed.

 

She’d been in the middle of telling the myth of the sun and moon goddesses with the setting sun at her back to create the backdrop. The tale was her favorite, and she always drew a large crowd when she launched into it as her passion carried the words like a song up to the heavens towards the very sun and moon it was about. Bright golden rays of the sunset were peeking over the rooftops that surrounded them and brilliant pinks and purples painted over the sky. If you asked her audience, with the fading sunlight in her hair and the sparkle in her honey eyes, she looked like one of the goddesses she spoke so fondly of.

 

“They loved each other greatly, the moon shining with the light of the sun’s love and the sun dancing amongst the different shades of color the moon’s sky cast around her.” 

 

Ileana’s hands reached up towards the clouds above them as if she could pick the coloring from them to show her audience. With a wide smile stretched across her face, she turned towards the awestruck crowd, expecting the way all their attention would be on her with wide eyes and mouths slightly agape. What she did not expect was the jolt in her chest when her eyes landed on one crowed member in particular. The blonde man stood at the back of the crowd, arms crossed over a simple white shirt that was tucked into even simpler brown riding pants. His black eyes watched her intently, one eyebrow cocked and a small smile tugging at the right corner of his mouth. Something about the way his gaze danced over her raised a small gasp from her lips and breaking the rhythmic cadence of her words. 

 

It was the first time anyone had caused words to fail her.

 

The moment was so quick, anyone else would think she had just stopped for a breath, but the way the stranger’s smile split into a full blown, toothy grin told her he knew better. For the rest of the story she avoided the black fire gaze of the stranger, but the warmth that spread through her veins from it never fully dissipated. As her story came to a close and the square filled with the sound of her audience’s applause she tried to keep the fluttering of her heart contained as she saw the blonde stranger moving closer to where she stood.

 

“Oh, look at this sucker,” one of the men in the audience said as they watched him moved through the throngs of people towards her. She recognized him as one of the first she’d turned down. 

 

“He must be new,” his companion chuckled, eyes never leaving the blonde stranger as he closed the remaining space that separated him from Ileana. Her skin crackled with an excitement she’d never felt before. Up close, she could see the freckles that created constellations across the bridge of his nose and the deep blue of his eyes that looked like the night sky. 

 

“Beautiful story,” was all he said, his voice thick with appreciation. Heat colored her cheeks at the compliment. 

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Have you traveled far to listen?” Ileana didn’t let the butterflies ricocheting against her insides falter her speech as she spoke to him. He chuckled lowly at the question.

 

“Not far at all, it is my first time though.” That same look from earlier fixed upon her again, shooting anxious sparks of electricity down to her fingertips. “A pity for me that I’ve been missing out all this time.”

 

“It’s better late than never,” she smiled and used the energy that yearned for her to reach out to him to tuck her blue hair behind her ear. It was his turn to falter as the brightness in her smile blinded him momentarily. His hesitation was fleeting before he found his composure. The night sky gaze flickered from her face to someone behind her before quickly returning. His face fell slightly at whatever it was unseen to her just behind her back.

 

“Would it be okay if I came back tomorrow?” Something about the way he asked made her heart stutter. Of the many times men had approached her after her story telling, none had ever asked her this. Most came to her with an air of assuming arrogance, expecting her to accept whatever invitation they bestowed upon her as if they had been doing her a favor. She felt the eyes of the two men that had joked about the stranger’s approach on them, waiting for her denial. 

 

“I would be honored.” Ileana smiled at him again as the butterflies flipped their cage over in her stomach. The stranger smirked at her, though whether it was due to the shocked gasp from the onlookers or her answer, she wasn’t sure. His blonde hair flopped forward as he bowed deeply towards her, reaching his hand out for hers. It was a far more formal gesture than the town square required, and certainly more formal than she deserved, but the thrill of it tickled up her spine. Gently she placed her palm in his. As he stood, he brought her hand up to his lips. His midnight gaze held her golden one as he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. The feather light touch knocked the breath from her lungs.

 

“I will see you tomorrow then.” With that, he let go of her hand and walked past her, leaving her stunned as she searched for anything at all to say. 

 

It was the second time in her life anyone had caused words to fail her.

 

Time seemed to stretch forever as she hectically searched through the thousands upon thousands of words in her mind for at least one that she could say to the mysterious stranger.

 

“Wait!” She cried, spinning on her heel as he had begun to walk away with a tall, black haired man dressed in all black. The blonde man hesitated, turning back to face her. His companion made an impatient noise under his breath as he also turned to face her, his red eyes looking bored. “What’s your name?”

 

“Makarov,” he said simply with a smile. The sharpness of it and the way it rolled from his lips seemed to suit him. “And yours?” She couldn’t stop her own smile as she answered.

 

“Ileana.”

 

***

 

After their first meeting Makarov continued to come back everyday. Whenever she arrived to the town square she would feel the bubble of joy that would expand in her chest and threaten to lift her from the ground. She hadn’t thought anyone could make her feel the same wonderment words had, and yet he always managed to fill her veins with heart stopping awe and a foreign emotion she could only imagine to be love. Some days he would show up early enough to speak with her before she would start her tales for the day, and others he would show up just in time as she would take her steadying breath before dropping into character. On those days, he would stay late into the evening as the moon and stars would make their appearance. Their meetings always ended the same, with him bowing to her as he ran his lips gently across the skin of her knuckles before leaving with the dark haired man she later came to learn was named Metalicana.

 

It was a month’s time before she invited him to her small home on the outskirts of the town. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her father had left to gather more stories for them to tell, leaving the cottage to her and her alone. Inside the walls of her cozy abode and away from questioning eyes, they fell into a much more comfortable routine. They would cuddle up together in front of the fire while she would regale him with stories of her childhood and stories she didn’t tell the townsfolk.

 

“Something’s I don’t like sharing,” she’d chuckled as she finished telling him the tale of the creation of time. 

 

That had been the first time he’d kissed her, and the third time he’d taken her words from her.

 

Ileana hadn’t learned of Makarov’s royal lineage until a year into their relationship. They’d been laying together in her bed, enjoying the heat of the late morning sunlight from the window that brushed their skin with warmth when a troubled shadow had crossed his face. It was the kind of look one had when they had nothing but bad news. She’d seen it on her father’s face when he finally told her of her mother’s death, and she’d seen it on the face of the man that had come to her door a few months prior to tell her of her father’s untimely death.

 

“What is it, my love?” She’d asked, reaching towards his face and cupping his cheek with the feather light touch of her palm. His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed into the caress. A tight grip closed on her heart as she watched an internal struggle wage across his face before his expression calmed as he made his decision.

 

“I’m the prince.” 

 

A beat of silence so profound and so deep one could hear a pin drop filled the home. Then Ileana began to laugh. The sound beat away the tense silence and filled it with the bell-like mirth of her joy. A scowl crossed his face as she wheezed, the fit of laughter racking her body as she leant into his chest. It wasn’t until the boisterous sound faded into spaced out giggles that he chuckled as he planted a kiss to the top of her head. The confession had made the world of sense to Ileana as she nuzzled at his collarbone, unable to stop the the light laughter that had filled her. She’d always felt he was regal, and had often imagined him as the prince in the many stories she shared with her audiences. Makarov being the prince of Fiore seemed as right as the stars in the sky.

 

It was the fourth time words he’d made her words leave her with nothing to say.

 

Years would pass as they continued their meetings and the prince continued to be there for every story she told to the townsfolk. She’d even grown close with Metalicana, even helping him some evenings with dragging Makarov home. Her life had felt like one of her tales, and if she hadn’t let herself get caught up in the romanticism of it all, she may have been able to foresee that it couldn’t stay. 

 

Just before his 21st birthday, her prince’s father fell gravely ill. She had heard of it from the gossip flitting through the town before she’d seen Makarov that day, and had already prepared herself for the news. As she began to tell her tales for her audience that afternoon, he showed up and stood at the back of the crowd, eyes downcast as he avoided her stare. Much like any other day he approached her as the throng of people dispersed, and though she had prepared to hear about his father’s sickness, she had not prepared for the sadness that filled his eyes as she told her of his father’s dying wish. 

 

Sorrow unlike anything she had ever felt tore through her like a blade. It left her chest split wide and raw like an open wound and though they continued to meet, it never quite healed. They spent their final days together wrapped in each other as they tried to capture as much as they could to carry with them. Like thieves in the night they took pieces of the other until there was nothing left.

 

His smile.

 

Her delicate touch.

 

His passion filled stare.

 

Her captivating voice.

 

The day before his wedding was the last time Ileana went to the square to share her stories.

 

It was the final time Makarov took her words from her.

 

***

 

Levy McGarden loved the stories her mother told, but the story of the prince that had fallen in love with one of the townsfolk was her favorite. The way she’d told it always painted such a vivid picture, she would think that her mother had lived it herself. She knew better though, knowing her mom never stepped foot into town. If there was anything they needed that they could not get from the land around them, her mother would send her instead but always with a warning to return straight home. 

 

Levy didn’t mind all too much, really. At home her mother would tell her such fantastic stories, she couldn’t imagine anything in the outside world could possibly live up to the things she’d heard from her mother. From the prince that loved the townswoman, to the moon and sun goddesses destined to love each other from afar, and even to the story of how time grew from the dust of stars, she never found herself wanting for anything else outside of her four walls and her mother’s words. 

 

She began to learn the stories her mother told, loving the way the tales filled her mind with wonder and endless combinations of words that created worlds unlike anything anyone truly knew. It was a comfortable existence, and one that many might have puzzled over, but it was hers and she loved it. 

 

Without having met one, she could tell anyone the exact likeliness of a dragon. 

 

Without having seen it, she could tell anyone the exact way the sea would lap against the earth in steady, blue green waves. 

 

Without having felt it, she could tell anyone the exact way love could fill ones chest with a lightness that made them feel invincible and completely vulnerable all at once.

 

If there was anything Levy knew she could count on, it was the words that made up the stories that she survived on as if they were oxygen. At least, that’s what she thought.

 

It was shortly after her 19th birthday when a knock had interrupted the tale her mother had recounting of the princess who slept until kissed by a prince. The sound was foreign to them, as Levy could not remember a time when anyone had come to their home. Identical hazel gazes flickered towards the door and then back to the other before the staccato sound of knuckles rapping against wood echoed through their home again. With a curt nod from her mother, Levy pushed herself away from the fire they’d been sitting in front of to answer the door. Standing just on the other side of it was a knight. His black hair cascaded around his shoulders and down his back over the black armor he wore. Crimson eyes looked at her quizzically as a peculiar eyebrow of studded metal quirked upward. Her heart crashed within her chest as she looked at the man.

 

“May I help you?” She asked, trying to sound firm as she drew a breath in an attempt to make herself look larger. The motion seemed to amuse the knight as his red glare softened.

 

“I was hoping I could bother you for some food. I have been traveling for quite some time, and ran out of provisions long ago.” His voice was thick as honey as he dragged his gaze down her body. If she noticed the false note in his voice, she didn’t acknowledge it, instead lost in the way his eyes sent chills racing down her skin. She nodded before she’d even fully decided to let him in, ignoring the heat of her mother’s stare that bore into her back.

 

“We don’t have much, but we could spare you some bread and drink,” her voice sounded like a strangers as it dipped low. The smile she received made her mind go blank. It was the kind of smile she imagined the princesses in her mother’s stories received from their princes. 

 

“May I ask your name?” Levy asked as soon as her mind kicked back on. Closing the door after he’d stepped in, she turned to face him, vaguely noting the wide eyed stare of her mother. If she’d been closer, maybe she would have noticed the spark of familiarity in her mom’s shocked stare. The knight turned to face her, the steel that had been in his original stare at the door slipping away completely. Without the fiery heat in his eyes, he looked to be about her age.

 

“‘m Gajeel,” he said matter-of-factly as he bowed before her, offering his hand. Ileana’s eyes watched the scene from by the fire, a sharp pang rippling through her chest as she saw the gesture. After a moment, Levy dropped her hand into his and he pulled it towards him to press a kiss to the back of her hand. The feel of his lips on her skin made her heart stutter.

 

“And you?” He asked as he returned to standing and released her hand. 

 

“Levy,” she breathed. Something sparked between them as they held each other’s gazes. It was the sharp clearing of her mother’s throat that broke the spell and caused them both to jump.

 

“And my mother.” 

 

As Gajeel walked further into their home to introduce himself to Ileana, Levy went to their food storage and grabbed him a half a loaf of their bread and filling a cup with water. The knight thanked her for the food and drink, tearing into it as if it had been the most delicious meal he’d ever had. The mother and daughter bounced questions off of him, asking about his life and the kingdom in which he’d come from. As he answered, Levy missed the way her mother grew quiet as he began to speak of the king of Fiore, whom he served.

 

The trio talked for what felt like hours, and Levy’s mother even recounted some of her stories for him. It wasn’t until the sun had set low in the sky that he announced he had to continue back to the castle.

 

“May I return tomorrow?” He asked of them both, Ileana’s shoulders tensing at the near identical question she’d been asked so many years before. Levy’s cheeks had flushed at the question, her eyes darting to her mother in a silent plea. If it had been up to Ileana, she’d have bid the knight farewell and closed the door. The pain of love was not one she wished her daughter to feel just yet, and yet she found she could not deny her. With a quick nod, Levy’s face split into a bright smile as she turned to the knight.

 

“It would be my honor.”

 

***

 

Gajeel became a permanent fixture in their home, arriving about midday and leaving each evening. A few months after he’d come into their lives, Ileana fell ill and passed, but not before she was able to see the love that had blossomed between him and her daughter. As Levy had cried at her mother’s side, rattling breath painfully dragging from her lips as she faded, he’d remained at hers. It was with a smile and a prayer for their love story to turn out differently than her own that Ileana McGarden breathed her last breath.

 

Days turned into weeks and those weeks turned into months, which then turned into a year and Gajeel still remained at Levy’s side. They lived together in the small house on the outskirts of town and Levy had taken up her mother’s knack for storytelling, not only sharing her favorites with the love of her life, but also returning to the town to share them.

 

Much like her mother before her, she drew large crowds of bright eyed townspeople that reveled in the way she was able to form words into worlds before them. While the faces usually changed, one stayed constant as Gajeel stood at the back of her audience, always watching with a protective stance. While she recounted her stories, her eyes would always flicker to the soft smile that would be on his lips that he only saved for her and a warmth would spread in her chest. 

 

The love she felt for him was unlike anything the tales she’d been told had readied her for, and often times she found that words weren’t enough to convey the way he made her heart stutter or the way his gaze sent fire racing through her veins.

 

Each morning she would wake nestled within his arms, and each evening they would spend speaking of everything and nothing at all. It felt as if she had fallen into one of her mother’s stories about fated love. 

 

Her own affections are what distracted her from seeing just how similar her story had become to her favorite story of the prince and the townswoman. If she had, she may have seen that, much like those lovers, her own love story was not meant to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder I will be out of town 9/14-9/18, so this will be the last update until the week of 9/18.
> 
> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	7. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m pretty proud of myself for getting this out since I didn’t actually get to work on it yesterday like I had thought I would. If it’s horrendous, please don’t tell me until tomorrow because right now I am very proud. DON’T TAKE IT FROM ME OKAY. Anyway, buckle up kiddos, while this one is a bit more of a fun chapter, it sneaks answers in there. Also, small fun fact, I nearly posted this unfinished because I’d forgotten about a spot I’d meant to come back to and forgot oops

Levy groaned loudly as she threw her pen down on her desk, the plastic clattering loudly against the wood as it bounced against it. It had been three days since The Incident-- so dubbed by her best friend Lucy-- and she hadn’t been able to get those damn crimson eyes out of her head. They taunted her, following her through her dreams and popping up in her mind’s eye at the most inconvenient of times. Those times being whenever she sat down to try and work on her paper, much like right now. Instead of words, her hand had started to trace the outline of the brooding eyes onto the page of her notes. The worst part was that she hadn’t even noticed until she’d looked down expecting to see an analysis between the monikers of knights and the Iron Dragon, and instead found herself staring into a blue ink homage to Gajeel’s stare. With an angry huff, she flipped the notebook over before pushing it away to the far corner of her desk so the offending image could no longer continue to keep gazing into her. 

 

When she’d returned home from the coffeeshop, heart still beating a hummingbird’s beat in her throat, she’d realized she hadn’t gotten the man’s number. Not that she was even sure she would have used it if she’d had it, but the small thrum of regret had tickled low in her gut all the same. She suspected the fact that the sparkling garnet was continuously painted across the inside of her eyelids whenever she closed her eyes was her subconscious telling her she’d missed out on something. 

 

As her mind wandered through the images of ruby and onyx, she pulled the book towards her and started to flip through the delicate pages. She’d never had a problem with words, and the fact that the practical stranger seemed to have stolen hers away from her set her on edge. She kept words close because they’d never failed her, and it stung knowing that, for the first time in her life, they’d left her to be replaced by images that she couldn’t put to paper.

 

Her eyes scanned across the curling script that made up the tales in the leather bound tome and drank them in. If the words wouldn’t come to her of their own volition, she’d find other words that would hopefully inspire her. The tales she read through painted her imagination with surprising detail as she was sucked into the different worlds.

 

One took her to dance amongst the stars as she watched the Sun and Moon chase after one another as their love filled the skies with light.

 

Another led her deep within long forgotten forests where an oracle resided, watching all around her from afar and though she knew the fates of all, she was powerless to stop the inevitable.

 

The next dragged her to a kingdom with a princess who had waited her entire life for her prince to come, passing her time by dabbling in old magicks. 

 

As she continued flicking through the pages, her attention landed on a painting of a beautiful queen. The woman stood against the page, eyes burning as she clutched a dagger within her fist. A small shiver ran down Levy’s spine as a small drop of fear raced in her veins. In the far edges of her memory, something familiar and ominous stirred. Her eyes flickered away from the illustration and up towards the words that held some of the queen’s story.

 

_The discovery of her king’s hidden daughter had broken her heart, shattering it to dust and unleashing a dark malice within her. Her once beautiful and light magic twisted and decayed, turning as black as the underworld she’d pulled it from. She would take everything from the girl the way she’d taken her king’s love from her. Tucked deep into the cellars of the castle, far away from King Dreyar, she began to weave together a curse so old that even the ancient druids she’d learned her spells from had forgotten it. As she invoked the words that spilled across the enchanted paper, crackling with inky black electricity, a single tear fell onto them. The harsh lines of the words pulled the tear deep within the curse, unknowingly binding the queen to the curse._

 

As the excerpt ended, to be continued on the next pages, Levy couldn’t bring herself to look away from the hard stare looking up at her. Something about the purple eyes of the painted queen were unsettling as she leaned in closer. It almost felt as if they were watching her from the page, the malicious light of a woman scorned captured within the colored slopes of her eyes. With a trembling finger, she gently brushed the tip against the soft paper and let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as her touch met the surface.

 

A hand dropped down onto her shoulder, effectively forcing Levy’s heart up into her throat as she jumped away from the book with a shriek. Grabbing the pen from her desk and brandishing it like a knife, pushed herself out of her chair and spun to face the intruder.

 

“Down, girl!” Lucy cried, hands raised in surrender as she shrunk away from the pen that was pointed dangerously at her. Levy dropped the pen as soon as she saw the blonde, placing the now empty hand over her heart as if the weight of it would slow the way it pulsed against her sternum. 

 

“Jesus, Luce, you ever hear of knocking?” Panic held onto the edges of her words as she tried to steady her breathing. 

 

“You didn’t answer! The door was unlocked so I came in to make sure you were okay,” Lucy said through a pout as she crossed her arms over her chest. The blonde fixed her blue gaze on her friend as she took in her disheveled appearance. 

 

“You forgot.”

 

It wasn’t a question, but a statement that came out flat and harsh. The blankness of her stare matched Levy’s as she searched through her mind for what she could have possibly forgotten. Amongst the chaos of her mind with spinning jewel toned eyes, dragons and words that just wouldn’t come, she couldn’t find the information she had seemed to have lost within the wreckage. She offered her friend a small smile in way of an apology and earned a long sigh in return.

 

“You promised we’d go out.” Lucy paused as she waited for the look of acknowledgement from Levy that didn’t come. “Because you’re a workaholic that needs a break before you drive yourself crazy? And I’m sad and lonely because Natsu is away for his internship?” 

 

A sudden flash of her wrapping a pinky around Lucy’s as she swore to go out with her danced across her vision. 

 

_We’ll drink until we both forget our names, okay? We’ve earned it._

 

At the time she’d made the promise in hopes that her best friend would forget, only wanting to get back to the paper she desperately needed to finish, but that had been before The Incident and the following writer’s block it had created. Blue eyes watched her with the hopeful glimmer of someone waiting to hear an affirmation. Levy cast a glance over her shoulder towards the book that sat open on her desk, her heart still racing as she stared into the haunting mauve eyes of the queen. She closed her eyes against the glare and took a steadying breath as Gajeel’s crimson one replaced them. Maybe she didn’t exactly want to forget her own name, but drinking until she forgot that unique shade of red for awhile had sounded like a plan to her. 

 

With a gentle finger, she flicked the corner of the book upward so that it flipped shut with a gentle clap. Turning her attention back to her best friend, she offered her a smile.

 

“I could use a break.”

 

“That’s my girl!” Lucy cheered as she bent down to pull brand new bottles of whiskey and coke from the plastic bag at her feet. 

 

“Let’s get this party started!”

 

*******

 

The neon of the sign of the bar stung Levy’s slightly bleary eyes as she stared up at it.

 

**Ironside**

 

It was a strange name for a bar, to say the least. 

 

_It’s supposed to be one of the best bars around_ , Levy had exclaimed with a hiccup as they’d waited for their cab. _There’s always a huge line, but Natsu said he knows a guy whose brother is a bartender there and he got us on a list_. 

 

Lucy hadn’t been wrong about the crowd that would be gathered outside of the establishment. The line wrapped around the building as patrons huddled together against the cold of the fall air that permeated through their barely there clothes. A few passed flasks of liquid warmth back and forth as they waited for the line to move enough for them to get passed the pearly gates that would lead to Ironside. 

 

Levy’s own skin was speckled with goosebumps as a stiff breeze danced over her alcohol warmed flesh, biting through the thing material of her goldenrod halter top and through the black denim of her jeans. A frozen shiver dragged down her spine as she hugged herself in an attempt to keep whatever heat she had close. A flash of bright blue pulled her attention from the blinking neon word as Lucy joined her side after having finished paying their cab driver.

 

The cerulean dress her friend had changed into was short and hugged her curves, leaving more skin exposed than Levy, yet she showed no signs of the chill bothering her. Rosy pink dusted her cheeks as she smiled at Levy and grabbed her wrist to pull her towards the front of the line. The quick movement caused her head to spin dangerously. 

 

“C’mon, Lev! It’s too cold to stand out here!” The blonde exclaimed, earning sharp glances from the other bar goers as they made their way ahead of them. A lean man with shaggy black hair and eyes like endless dark pools of blue stood in the doorway with a clipboard clutched in his fist. His eyes tightened slightly as they approached and he made himself larger.

 

“Sorry girls, you have to go to the back,” he said, his voice brusque as he addressed them. If her mind wasn’t swimming in a sea of whiskey, Levy may have actually been intimidated.

 

“Nope.” Was all Lucy said as she pointed a finger at the clipboard in the security guard’s hand. “We’re on that.” 

 

Her words were doughy as they slurred slightly together, but her smile was genuine. The man’s eyes softened slightly as he lifted the clipboard to inspect it.

 

“Name?”

 

A beat passed as Lucy searched her mind for the name that they’d be listed under. 

 

“Lily plus one!” She said happily as it finally came to her. The name sent a small jolt through Levy’s alcohol addled mind. Did she know a Lily? The guard dragged a finger down the paper attached to his clipboard before he nodded and stepped aside so they could walk by him.

 

“Welcome to Ironside,” he said as they pushed open the door.

 

“C’mon, Gray!” She heard an angry voice say before it was cut off by the door closing. The dull sound of bass vibrated against the red walls of the hall they’d stepped into. Large, twisted iron fixtures lined the path that led towards an intimidating iron door opposite of where they stood. Lucy squealed with glee as she grabbed onto Levy again to pull her towards the entrance. 

 

A wall of music hit them as the blonde pushed the doors open. The buzz of the electric beats tickled Levy’s stomach as it vibrated her insides with its intensity. Flashing lights spun across the bodies that crashed against each other on the darkened dance floor. Iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling dripping with gothic elegance and garnet silk and the marble tile on the ground sparkled. It was a lavish setting and suddenly Levy felt as if she was underdressed. The hype suddenly made sense as she took in the otherworldly dark beauty of the room before them. Lucy moved forward from where they stood, pulling them both further into the bar. 

 

The familiar burn of someone’s gaze on her made her stop as Lucy disappeared into the crowd of bodies that moved together with the music. Looking around, her eyes were drawn towards the bar where her golden stare met a crimson one. Standing behind the bar with a rueful smile tugging at his lips, was Gajeel. Her heart stuttered as she stared at him, taking in the way his eyes gleamed in the dim light of the bar. As he held her gaze, he winked and crooked a finger towards her in a come hither motion. 

 

Moving of their own accord, her feet brought her closer until she stood in front of the bar.

 

“Fancy seeing ya here,” he said, his smile pulling up further to one corner and his eyes smoldering.

 

“My friend dragged me here,” she said lamely as she tried to push back the thoughts his crooked smile were stirring at the back of her mind. Levy saw the motion of his laughter instead of hearing it as it was lost to the sound of the bass. 

 

“What can I get you to drink?” He asked loudly as he leant closer so she could hear him better. The shirt he wore shifted to reveal the sharp dip of his collarbone that pulled her attention in like a magnet. She wondered quickly what it would be like to trace it with her fingertip. 

 

“Levy?” Gajeel’s voice broke her concentration as her eyes darted away from his skin to a small menu that sat on the bar. A few drinks were listed but one in particular caught her eye.

 

“Can I have a Blue Princess?” She said, a small river of pride running through her as she managed to push the breathiness she felt out of her voice. His answering smirk was filled with unknown humor to her as he nodded a confirmation before he pushed back from the bar and started to mix the drink. 

 

Levy’s eyes traced over him as he busied himself with creating the concoction, taking advantage of being free from his stare so she could drink him in. Her memory hadn’t done him any justice as she examined the cut definition of his jawline and the way his biceps strained against the cuff of his shirt as he shook the ingredients together. His black hair had been tied back and only showed more of his face and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to taste the fullness of his lips. 

 

“This one’s on me,” Gajeel said as he pushed a whiskey glass filled with a brilliant blue liquid and adorned with a mint leaf towards her. As the lights swirled around her, dancing over her skin and painting it rainbow, she looked up into the ruby eyes she’d originally been trying to drink away. The irony wasn’t lost on her as she smiled and took a sip of the blue drink. Sweet berry exploded on her tongue, any traces of the alcohol that was mixed within it was lost within the cool mint that weaved itself within the fruity flavor. It could have been the whiskey talking, but it was the best drink she’d ever had. Gajeel’s eyes traced the length of her neck as she drank, the stare a cool caress against her skin that sent a thrill through her. He smiled at her as she gently set the glass back onto the bar. 

 

“So what do ya think?” He yelled over the beating bass that was shaking the bar and her insides. Levy’s own gaze worked its way over his frame, enjoying the way his black shirt pulled across his chest and the way his strong hands wrapped around the glass he was polishing. She very much wanted to tell him she was thinking about how looking at him felt the same as she imagined it would feel seeing color for the first time. It filled her chest with an indescribable awe as her heart tried to reach out to him as if it were trying to get home. 

 

Something in the back of her mind told her it had always been meant to be his. 

_She would take everything from the girl the way she’d taken her king’s love from her._

 

The line of text from the queen’s tale sliced through the thought. A slick trickle of unease as the letters twisted across her mind made its way over her nerves. It had been such a sudden change in her stream of conscious that it had caused mild whiplash and left her dizzy. Screwing her eyes shut, she took a deep steadying breath and pushed the memory away.

 

With her vision off of him, Gajeel shot a quick glance to a man sitting on the opposite end of the bar, who raised a scarred eyebrow in his direction. 

 

“Levy?” His worried voice cut through the din of her thoughts and her warm honey gaze fixed on him again. The alcohol pumped liquid courage through her veins as she smiled up at him. Placing both hands on the bar, she pushed herself up so she was balanced on her palms as she leaned into the bartender’s space. Heat rolled off his skin, their chests ghosting together as she brought her face close to his ear so she could answer. He tensed at her proximity as her breath tickled his ear and the scent of lilacs and whiskey filled his nose.

 

“That blue princess is lucky to have that named after her.” Levy’s voice was husky with the warmth of the alcohol she’d consumed. Her heart jumped as she heard Gajeel’s breath hitch, the cool sensation of it tickling her shoulder. She dropped back onto the ground lightly and grabbed the drink off the counter. 

 

“Levy!” A blonde shouted from behind her, eyes flickering towards the man behind her before turning back to the bluenette with a catlike grin. The look was lost on Levy as she lifted the blue liquid towards him in a small salute and winked.

 

“Thanks for the drink, Gajeel!” She said before she turned towards her friend and joined her. The bartender watched as she went, the lithe way she moved filling his chest with electrical pops. 

 

At the other end of the bar, Lily’s dark gaze danced between Gajeel and Levy as a sadness burned in his eyes.

 

*******

 

Levy stared at her reflection, the twin hazel stare appraising her with mild curiosity as her doppleganger took her in. The other her wore a cream smock with a lemonade yellow surcoat over it. Embroidered blue flowers decorated the otherwise modest fabric that adorned her petite frame. One of her hands twirled the end of her that had been twisted into a braid that fell over her shoulder. 

 

Shifting uneasily, Levy changed the weight she leaned onto one leg to the other, noting the way her other self’s eyes never left her. 

 

“Who are you?” She heard herself ask. Her voice echoed through the empty void that surrounded them. The copy just watched her, her lips turning down into a look of immeasurable sadness. 

 

“What is this?” Levy pressed, taking a step towards her other self. The other Levy didn’t move as she closed the distance between them. She only shook her head slowly before turning her eyes down to the ground. Frustration bubbled up within Levy as she grabbed onto her reflection’s arm as if she could shake some sort of answer from her. Her skin was ice cold against the warmth of her hand as her eyes shot open to reveal burning purple irises. Her face fell away from the reflection to reveal a tall woman with raven hair and a fearsome scowl that had matched that of the painted queen from the book. A loud roar filled the space around them as the woman opened her mouth.

 

_You will kill him._

 

A sharp, shuddering breath ripped it’s way up from her lungs and through her throat Levy shot up from where she’d been tucked amongst pillows and heavy blankets. Her heart hammered against her chest as if it was attempting to break free of its cage as the terror she’d felt from the dream made the tips of her fingers buzz. Gulping in large gasps of air, she looked around at her surroundings, the feeling of dread only growing as she realized she didn’t recognize the room she was in. The bed she was in was plush and far larger than the one she had with a great many pillows surrounding her, creating a nest around her. A heavy black comforter had slipped from her shoulders and into her lap. Her eyes wandered around the room, trying to find any clue as to who it belonged it, and only finding a matching mahogany dresser and nightstand set and a leather jacket that hung from the corner of what she assumed was the bathroom door.

 

Heart still racing, she pushed herself out from under the weight of the comforter and quietly got out of the bed. The change in position left her head spinning as she tried to steady herself against the way the alcohol from the night before continued to cloud her mind. Lucy smiling at her on the dance floor and a pair of warm red eyes were the last things she could remember from the night prior and she bit back a groan as her stomach rolled. 

 

If she wasn’t killed in this mysterious apartment, she’d have to tell Lucy that she was never drinking again.

 

She padded lightly over the wooden floor towards the closed door, taking deep steadying breaths the entire way. The metal of the doorknob was cool in her palm as she twisted it slowly and gently pulled the door open. A slight creak whispered from the hinges as she made her way into the living room. 

 

Gentle snores rose from a white lump of blanket on the black leather couch that sat in the middle of the room. Stepping closer, careful not to make any loud noises, her eyes searched for any sign as to who the sounds belonged to. Familiar black hair stuck out over the top of the couch’s armrest and caused a small pool of panic to in her throat as murky memories started to play like a scene in her mind.

 

_“You okay, Levy?”Gajeel’s eyes were filled with concern as he looked down at her. “Where’d you friend go?” His questions were only answered with low giggles as her fingers brushed over the sharp plane of his cheekbone._

 

Bile rose in her throat as the brief memory faded away, bringing with it a panicked gasp as she threw her hands over her mouth. Her quick footsteps echoed through the apartment as she ran back into the bedroom and towards the bathroom where she fell to her knees before the toilet and retched up the night before.

 

******************************

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	8. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know when I started this chapter, I was worried the original plan for it wouldn't be long enough for an update and I spent actual DAYS trying to decide if I wanted to combine this chapter and the next to make it long enough? Turns out, that wasn't necessary lol
> 
> This update also has my fave line from Kingdom so far, any guesses as to what it is?

The familiar weight of the dream was settling into his chest when it happened. A loud gasp, the quick thud of footsteps retreating quickly, a feeling of suspension at his core before the world dropped out from under him.

 

Then his back hit the cool surface of his living room floor.

 

Air left his lungs with a soft whoosh as his eyes shot open with the contact, the light streaming in through his large windows blinding him momentarily as he fought to recapture the breath he’d just lost. _What the hell was that?_ As Gajeel’s vision swam back into focus around the blaring sunlight, his mind raced as it tried to catch up with the world around it. 

 

It took all of three minutes of dazed silence for the pieces to pull themselves together in a vivid picture of azure and amber. 

 

When Levy had walked through the doors at Ironside, eyes wide as she took in the neo-gothic inspired decorations of the bar. Against the deep oxblood and onyx color palette, she’d been a burning sun. His gaze had been drawn to her without provocation, no sound or movement out of the ordinary to drag it from the cup he’d been polishing and yet he’d done so all the same. Lights had danced over, leaving momentary brush strokes of purples and pinks over her petal white skin. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was staring at a fairy, beautiful and untouchable. As if she could hear his thoughts, she’d turned towards him and fixed him with her gold honey gaze and effectively stolen the oxygen from his lungs. Beneath the sunshine of her gaze, he felt himself smile at the warmth of it. 

 

Though she’d only spoken with him for a short period of time, just long enough to order the drink that had been inspired by the shining tendrils of her cornflower hair, it’d been enough to capture his attention for the remainder of the night. She’d danced away with her drink and his heart as she’d joined a blonde woman in the crowd of swaying bodies. After disappearing amongst the mass of bar goers, he would catch glimpses of blue that would peak out amidst the crowd. Each time he’d be pulled away from the drink he was making or the conversation he’d been having, and each time he’d feel a questioning gaze on his back. 

 

“What is it?” He’d finally asked, growling as he turned to Lily, who sat at the end of the bar, out of the way of the paying customers. Their deal had been that Lily supplied breakfast and coffee and Gajeel supplied the booze. Normally, he enjoyed the company of his adopted brother who would offer pleasant conversation to pass the time, especially on slow nights. He would also try his questionable drink experiments, which Gajeel might have only made in order to get revenge on some of the things Lily had tried on him. Tonight, however, his presence only raised a steady edge of tensity that ran along his spine. His scarred eyebrow arched like a cat as Gajeel spun to face him.

 

“What’s what?” Lily’s voice still boomed over the loud music though he didn’t seem to put much effort into making himself sound louder. In the shadow of the bar, tucked away from the lights, he looked older and otherworldly. For just a moment, Gajeel wondered if it was truly his brother that sat before him. Almost as soon as he’d thought it, Lily took a sip of his rum and Coke, the illusion slipping from his skin like oil slick.

 

“That look. I don’t even have to see it to know you’re giving me that look.” As if to emphasize his point, Gajeel gestured towards his face. 

 

“She’s pretty,” is all he replied with a quick shrug of his shoulder. “Pretty blue hair too.” Lily’s voice was heavy with insinuation as his obsidian eyes bore into him. 

 

_Any luck finding the blue haired dream girl?_ The question from their last breakfast together echoed in his mind and something clicked into place in the back of his mind. Had Lily known her from the coffee shop? The harsh sound of a throat clearing cut off the question that balanced on the tip of his tongue, effectively ending their conversation and throwing Gajeel back into his work. By the time it had died down enough for him to speak with his brother again, he had disappeared from his seat in the shadows.

 

The night passed without Lily and without another flash of blue. 

 

It wasn’t until the throng had cleared at the end of the night that he finally captured another glimpse of her. Her cheeks were flushed with color and her eyes were bright with fevered inebriation as she looked around the crowd in search of the blonde friend that no longer stood with her. Levy was a vision of a goldenrod sun against a cerulean sky as she danced back over to the bar. 

 

“I lost my friend,” she said, words pliant as they melted around each other. Her voice was small as she looked around at the now nearly deserted bar. His heart squeezed as he saw the sad look in her eyes. _I’d help anyone look for a friend_ , he told himself as he walked around the bar, ignoring the obvious lie that colored his thought.

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said as he offered her his hand. “Take a seat, I’ll take a quick look around for her. What’s her name?” Levy climbed onto the stool at the bar, steadying herself with the edge of the bar and his hand as she did so. As soon as she was situated, she dropped her head onto her folded forearms that were braced against the slightly sticky surface of the counter.

 

“Lucy.” The name was muffled by her skin. He couldn’t have been gone more than 15 minutes before he returned Lucy-less to find Levy fast asleep where she sat. A stray wave of blue blowing with each breath as it lay across her face. 

 

_I’d help anyone out if they fell asleep at the bar_ , he told himself as he cradled the sleeping woman against his chest, waiting for the elevator doors to ding open at his floor. After many fruitless attempts to wake her after he’d completed his clean up, he’d been faced with the decision to either call the police to get her, or to take her home. The former was out of the question and the latter let loose a cage of raging butterflies in his chest. Though she’d shuffled a couple of times, rearranging herself in his arms as she pressed her face closer to the beating pulse at the crook of his neck, she’d remained asleep. 

 

After disembarking from the elevator and momentarily cradling her weight with one arm as he fiddled with the lock of his door, Gajeel had carefully walked to his room and had gently set her amongst the mountain of pillows and the plush black comforter. The motion had him leaning close to her and his senses filled with the scent of lavender, stalling him for just a moment as he breathed her in. A small hum vibrated in her throat before she sighed and her eyes fluttered open. 

 

“Gajeel,” Levy sighed again before she closed the small distance between them and brushed her petal soft lips against his own. It was a quick and fleeting touch, gone almost as soon as it happened as she closed her eyes and smiled before she curled around herself and pressed further into the pillow under her head. Stunned silence had fallen around him as he stood fully and touched his bottom lip with his index finger. Fire had erupted under his skin as he yearned for the touch again. Something deep within him started to rage against the inside of his skin as it tugged at a forgotten memory. 

 

If only he could have remembered.

 

The flush of the toilet broke the spell of the night before as Gajeel came crashing back down to the present and his living room floor. Worry crept into his veins as he eyed his own bedroom entrance. He was all to familiar with what transpired between a night of drinking and the toilet flush the next morning.

 

As he pushed himself off the ground to follow her into the room in which she’d retreated,lungs still greedily snatching at air, he couldn’t help but note that it was the third time in just as many meetings that she’d left him struggling to breathe.

 

“Levy?” He called, bare feet soundless against the hardwood. The black comforter lay in a giant heap in the middle of the bed, a stray lock of blue standing like a stretch of sky against its darkness. A small groan, half pain and half indignation, answered from deep within the blanketed cocoon's depths. His eyes flickered over the mass, its peak barely moving with its occupant’s breathing. With a quick shake of his head, he retraced his steps and headed towards the kitchen, grabbing a clean glass from the drying rack and a bottle of Tylenol that permanently lived on his counter after a great many of his own drunken nights. 

 

After filling the clear glass with filtered water from his fridge, he returned to the room and the lump that had once been Levy, baring his gifts as he set them on the nightstand next to the bed. The springs of his mattress protested as he gently sat on the corner, trying his best not to jostle it. The feeble moan from the comforter told him he’d failed.

 

“You alright?” Gajeel’s voice was melted chocolate as it filled the room. His eyes watched for movement as he waited for an answer. A moment passed, and then another, and then another. He started to count them as he waited, unsure if Levy had fallen back asleep. He’d made it to 15 before she responded.

 

“Why am I here?” The words were stuffed with cotton and he’d barely caught them all through the fabric of Levy’s makeshift shelter. He hummed deep in his throat as if he hadn’t deciphered her meaning in hopes he’d catch a glimpse of her. Another count of 15 passed before an opening appeared, revealing her eyes that housed two endless golden seas. Her eyebrows were knit together in consternation as she fixed them on him. Gajeel bit back the smile that threatened to carve itself across his face.

 

“Why am I here?” She repeated, her voice filled with the same dismay that churned in her gaze. 

 

“Ya mean, you don’t remember offering yourself to me?” His face was a mask teasing mirth as he pulled a studded eyebrow upwards towards the heavens. Levy shot up out of the comforter as if she’d been shocked, eyes opened impossibly wide and a squeak against her lips. She glowed in the sunlight from the window behind her. She was spring kissed Persephone amongst Hades’ robes. The flabbergasted expression quickly melted into one of unamused displeasure as Gajeel’s booming laugh filled the space around them. 

 

“That’s not funny.” A peony pink lip jutted out in a pout. He pretended not to notice the jolt in his chest at the sight of it.

 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was still full of laughter. Truth be told, he wasn’t sorry at all. She watched him warily as his levity tapered off. Reaching for the water and painkillers, he handed them to her. It wasn’t until she’d taken them that he began to speak.

 

“You’d had a bit much to drink, and you seemed to lose your friend at some point,” Gajeel said with a shrug, attempting not to watch the way she threw her head back as she tossed two of the Tylenol into her mouth. After a gulp of water, she handed the pill bottle back to him, her fingers brushing lightly over his palm and sending a droplet of heated magma into his veins. As the drop traveled, drawing a line of fire along with it, he relied what had happened the night prior, only leaving out the featherlight brush of her mouth against his that was still a phantom sting against his mouth. While he spoke, he drank her in, intoxicated by the way her own stare had wavered across his skin. It was only when he finished telling her what had happened that a flame ignited around his heart as the drop found its mark deep within his chest.

 

The apples of her cheeks pinked as his words tapered off.

 

“Thank you,” she nearly whispered as she cast her eyes down towards her hands. Her lithe fingers twisted in the dark fabric of the comforter as she fidgeted soundlessly.

 

“Nothing to thank, Shorty.” The nickname slipped from him before he had the chance to snatch it back. A beat passed. Then another. Then she chuckled. Levy’s eyes gleamed as she looked up through the blue bangs that had fallen over her forehead.

 

“I’m not short, you’re just a giant.” 

 

Gajeel dramatically through a hand over his heart, pushing back the small bubbling of delight as her gaze fluttered over his still bare chest. 

 

“You’ve cut me deep!” He cried with faux hurt. “Just put on my gravestone ‘Here lies Gajeel. Killed by a shrimp.’” 

 

Levy’s snort was the only warning he had before he caught a well aimed pillow to the face. With her eyes screwed shut, mouth wide with laughter as her head tipped back in exaltation, Gajeel wondered how he wasn’t blinded by how brightly she shined. Chuckling lowly, he returned the feather stuffed cushion that cut off her laughter. 

 

The room descended into chaos as it was filled with their laughter as it twisted together with the floating feathers that strayed from the confines of their pillows. At some point, they abandoned the pillows as Gajeel’s fingers started to dance across her skin, making her squirm as he tickled her ruthlessly. It wasn’t until her cheeks were flushed, her breath was heavy and she’d looked up at him from the cage his body had created around her that the attack subsided. His own dark hair created a veil that fell around them as the last of their laughter melted away back into silence. 

 

Heat filled the space between them as Gajeel stared down at her, her face framed by the glowing halo of her hair. Small gasps parted her lips as she held his gaze. They were a tantalizing shade of pink and he hungered to feel them against his own once more. Hungered to explore their plush plains and the woman they belonged to. He felt himself pulling towards her as if she was a magnet and he was a helpless piece of metal. 

 

The fluttering touch of her fingers dragging over the slightly darker skin of the birthmark over his heart sent an electric spark through him that flayed his thoughts. As the moment shattered around him, he pulled back and sat back on his haunches. She followed suit, sitting up against the mahogany headboard behind her.

 

“What happened?” Her curiosity rang with each word as she stared, almost memorized by the mark. The gold of her gaze was touched by sorrow as she reached out to brush her fingers over it again. As if summoned by the butterfly wing contact, the vision of the light pouring from the metallic scar on his doppleganger’s armor flickered across his sight. 

 

“Nothing,” he said a little breathlessly as he shook the image away. “At least, not that I know of.” Gajeel tried to smile as he shrugged. “I’ve had it as long as I can remember. Always just figured it was a birthmark to be honest.” 

 

With that, he looked down at the mark as if it would finally reveal its mystery. When he returned his crimson gaze to Levy, she was chewing on the corner of her lip as if she was trying to stop herself from saying something. 

 

“Why?” Her eyes widened at the simple question. Eyebrows knitting together, and confusion dulling the gold of her irises, she thought. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was frustrated as she searched for an answer, the internal struggle pulling her expression through several emotions before landing on a look of defeat.

 

“Just looked like a weird scar, I guess.” Levy’s voice was flat as her shoulders sagged. A sea of words swam behind her eyes, fighting against the cage of her mind as she left them unsaid. As a pregnant quiet settled over them, Gajeel searched for something else to say. Anything that would lift the weight that was settling against both their shoulders.

 

“I should probably go,” she finally said with a small smile as she started to extract herself from her perch at the head of his bed. He watched as she found her shoes by the bedroom door, struggling still to find the words he didn’t want to leave left unsaid. They never came as they exchanged numbers and she thanked him again. 

 

A bright smile, a quick waggle of her flower stem fingers and a promise to let him know when she made it home safe were left hanging in the air as the door clicked behind her. As she left, she took the strange electric weight with her. 

 

Groaning loudly into the apartment that now seemed too large and too empty, he fell back onto his couch, letting his head lull back to stare up at his ceiling. He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he attempted to pull the answers he sought from the popcorn texture before the loud chirping of Lily’s ringtone broke his concentration. After much consideration on whether he’d actually wanted to speak to him, the curiosity of where he’d disappeared to the night prior won out, and he snatched the phone off the coffee table.

 

“Hey, Lil,” Gajeel answered, returning to his pose. He traced a quick cat into the raised bumps of the ceiling as he waited for his reply.

 

“Gajeel,” Lily’s voice was oddly curt. Do you have time to meet today? We need to talk.”

 

**************************

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless self promo: If you'd like to see BTS, sneak peeks or my random thoughts as I write, follow me on twitter @odmwrites :D
> 
> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	9. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! This is one of those chapters that has to exist to get us from point A to point B, which are my least fave to write tbh lol mainly because those kinds of chapters are the hardest for me to write -.- Anyway, I’m gonna be taking a week off from writing because 1) I wrote 60k words in September and ya girl needs a break lol and 2) Voltron S4 happens Friday so I wanna use my free time to binge XD im an adult i swear. ANYWAY, Kingdom will most likely be back around 10/20-10/23 time.

Almost as soon as the door to Gajeel’s complex slammed behind her, a searing pain shot through Levy’s skull, blinding her momentarily as it nearly knocked her down with its force. The brick of the entryway bit into the skin of her back as she stumbled back into it, the air whooshing out of her lungs in one loud gasp. Her hands found the stone pressed into her back, feeling the coolness from the Fall chilled air beneath her fingers as the pain settled into a thrumming ache. 

 

A beat passed. 

 

And then another.

 

Curious eyes watched as people walked by, interested enough to twist their necks as they went but not enough to become involved. It was the kind of faux concern that made the passerby feel like a good Samaritan for showing the most basic level of human compassion without actually doing anything. The feeling of it made her skin crawl.

 

“I’m never drinking again,” she moaned to no one in particular as she breathed in through her nose and slowly out through her mouth. Levy had never been one to get the textbook hangover, always sidestepping the nausea and headaches that almost always made Lucy turn into a recluse for at least a day. Of course, she’d also never really been one for drinking until she lost an entire chunk of her memory either. She groaned again as she fought back the shame of waking up in Gajeel’s room without any recollection of how she’d gotten there.

 

Unfortunately, there was always a first time for everything.

 

Several moments came and went as she regained her bearings, her breath finally settling out as the pain dulled but never fully subsided. Only after the city stopped spinning around her did Levy finally push out of the doorway, counting each step in an attempt to ground herself. It took several counted sets of 100 steps before she finally reached her own complex, the cool AC of the bright hallway freezing the sweat on the back of her neck that had accumulated from the walk. Her front door was a welcome sight as she stumbled towards it, swiftly sheathing the key in the lock as she pushed it open.

 

Before her lay a mess of cups, knocked over books, and discarded clothing. A nagging sense of alarm bubbled in her gut as she looked over the chaos that told the story of her night. The casual disarray didn’t align with the vague memories she held of her and Lucy as they’d spoke and drank, never once touching her bookcase. Even the clothes that she’d tried on had been laid out on her bed, waiting for her to return home and replace them on their hangers. 

 

The pain that had rooted itself in the line between her temple and the base of her skull flared as she took it in, trying to match the scene before her with that of the scenes in her mind. It felt like a crime scene as opposed to a living room after a fun night of partying and the sense of foreboding didn’t escape her as her eyes swept the area. Pushing down the bitter bile that was raising in her throat, Levy shut the door behind her and dropped her keys on the small dish that sat on the shelf by her door. 

 

_I just don’t remember, that’s all_ , she thought to herself as she walked further into the room, eyes scanning the chaos as if she could pull answers from the scattered mess. The longer she looked, the easier it was for Levy to convince herself that the disorganization was just another piece of missing memory wiped away by alcohol. It was the only explanation that dulled the edge of the sharp unease cutting down her spine. With a resigned sigh, she walked through the living area and by her desk, gaze taking stock of the state of it, only to feel her pulse leap. 

 

Levy stopped in her tracks, the dull ache in her temples roaring to life as she stared at the opened book of stories. Spread wide with its painted pages staring upwards, it sat otherwise undisturbed on her desk amongst her notebooks and writing utensils. Her limbs seized as her eyes traced over the wide span of the tome as she worked her way through the muddled thoughts of the night before once again. 

 

She’d closed the book. 

 

Levy could still hear the heavy thud of its leather cover closing over its ancient pages as if the sound was still echoing against the cream walls of her room. Even if she was missing a piece of what had happened that night before, Levy knew Lucy would never have allowed her to return to the book, the night partially born from the belief she was overworked. 

 

Drawing closer to her desk and swallowing her heart as it beat its hummingbird rhythm in her throat. With each step forward, the pain at her temple ebbed away, chased from her by the stifling weight of exhaustion as if the very air around her was sucking the energy from her bones. It was a visceral thing, starting at her very core and working its way through her limbs until she ached with the numbing chill of it. Faltering, the chair at her desk met her as her legs gave out and plopped her onto the soft cushioning. 

 

The portrait lay before her now, as vivid as the painting of the queen from the day before and filling her with the same sense of ominous dread. Thin black lines and swirling colors swirled across the alabaster page, moving together to create an intricate scene filled with such beauty and despair, it almost hurt to look at it. Laying on the ground of what looked like a castle room, was a black haired knight in onyx armor. The ruby of his eyes was bright, only challenged by the vivid scarlet of the blood that had spilled out beneath him from a gash that stood out on his armor just over where his heart had beat beneath the darkened steel. His head was cradled in the lap of a blue haired woman whose face was partially obscured by the azure strands that fell over it as she looked down at him. Garnet stained the sun colored dress she wore with macabre streaks. 

 

Just beside the woman, right at her knee, was a blood stained dagger.

 

As she stared at it, the strange debilitating sensation racking against her insides fought with her will as she tried to keep her eyes trained on the image. It all looked so familiar. Prickling over her skin with the same demanding tingle of deja vu, Levy fought to reach out towards the memory that commanded to be remembered. 

 

The world crackled and shifted around Levy as she pulled herself closer to the page. Her heart thumped in the base of her throat, angrily combating the tiredness that was threatening to sink her as she stared at the woman’s sorrow filled face. The thick, cloying taste of familiarity threatened to choke her as she tried to swallow it down and keep it locked behind her teeth. Her gaze slid from the woman to the knight’s blazing red eyes as she struggled to bring her hand up towards the painting. Levy’s eyelids grew heavier as she traced the outline of the couple with a shaking finger. The resemblance was striking, and she felt her lungs fighting against the cage of her ribs as she fought off the torpor that was sliding like thick concrete through her limbs. There was no doubt that the blue haired woman was the same as the one from her dream.

 

_The same as her._

 

She stared at the painting’s downturned eyes, rivulets of tears cascading down her cheeks as her thin hand was frozen in a caress over the man’s face. Her own fingers trembled with the illustrated touch that she could almost feel against her own skin. A sadness crawled slowly into her chest, curling around her heart before evolving into a breath stealing, earth moving despair. Sobs for a heartache she didn’t even know rolled off her lips as tears blurred her vision, melting the blacks, blues and reds of the image together into a molten bruise.

 

_He died_. The stray thought flitted through her mind as the heavy cloud of fatigue weighed her down, guiding her head down onto the desk beside the book. _He died in my arms._

 

Darkness was eating away at the edges of her vision as she ran the pad of her index finger over the grim expression on the knight’s face.

 

_On Gajeel’s face_.

 

As the shadows spilled over her sight, the distant sound of voices hummed in her ears. The paralyzing blanket of sleep settled over her as her eyes finally closed, the chatter increasing as she sunk into its inky depths. Before her senses faded completely, a single, heartbroken howl ripped through the darkness.

 

“Gajeel!”

 

***

 

“She’s pretty,” Lily said as he fixed Gajeel with his onyx stare. A strange light glittered in the depths of his eyes as he looked at him as if he could pull a response straight from him. Something about Lily’s interest felt wrong, a hidden agenda lurking underneath every word as he’d questioned him about the blue haired woman from the bar. Though they were best friends, Lily had never shown an interest in Gajeel’s personal affairs. He could count the number of times his brother had asked him specifically about his love life-- or rather, lack thereof-- on one hand. 

 

One finger, in fact. 

 

And it was when Lily had pushed his way into Gajeel’s apartment without so much as a hello. It had raised his hackles, as well as his guard, though he had let the man in all the same only to find himself on the receiving end of an inquisition. After dropping his heavy black jacket down onto the back of the couch, and settling himself into the soft leather, he’d made himself at home as Gajeel’s own personal interrogator. If he knew that this was what Lily had had in mind when he’d called him that morning, he wouldn’t have even answered the phone. He’d barely listened as his brother spoke, lost momentarily in the inky coloring that had stained the skin beneath Lily’s eyes as if he hadn’t slept at all.

 

_He looks older_ , he’d thought to himself as he continued to speak, asking more and more questions about Levy.

 

A throbbing pressure blossomed between his ears as the visit went on, making him more irritable than usual as Lily continued to poke and prod him for answers. He told himself that was the reason he was giving Lily monosyllabic answers that were bitter on the tip of his tongue, and not because for the first time in his life, he distrusted Lily. If his brother had noticed the barely hidden suspicion that darkened his tone, he didn’t let on as he persisted with his insistent questioning.

 

_You saved her from getting hit by a truck?_

 

_Who was driving it?_

 

_Did you stop it?_

 

_And you guys went on a date?_

 

The last question was what broke him of his stoic stance, the words erupting from him before he could stop himself.

 

“You seem awfully interested, Lil,” Gajeel nearly spat as he fixed his brother with a scowl. His face stayed carefully blank at the angry remark, which only filled him with caustic apprehension. The feeling razed his insides and burned against his ribcage until there was nothing left but stinging nerves.

 

_You have to make sure she gets home safe_. Lily’s voice from the night before was clear over the muddled pain that had settled itself deep in his head. The thick sweetness of suspicion coated his tongue as he remembered the way his brother had suggested he take her home. At the time it had felt as if Lily was just concerned for a girl who was too drunk to be alone. Gajeel would have helped her anyway, without the suggestion that had been thrust upon him until he’d finally conceded. Now, he couldn’t shake the bitter realization that maybe Lily had an ulterior motive behind his good guy act.

 

“You aren’t telling me something.” Gajeel ignored the betrayal that made his words quiver against his lips. Silence stretched between them as they held each others gazes, a battle of crimson and obsidian waging against each other in a show of dominance. Hours forced themselves into the span of just a handful of seconds before Lily dropped his gaze.

 

“Are you still having that dream?” His voice seemed distant as Lily finally spoke. It carried the heavy weight of insinuation over its bluntness, not even bothering to mask the innuendo in the words. Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, the headache rammed angrily against his skull, blocking out all other thoughts as it hammered away at his brain. A grimace twisted his face as the sharp pain stole his breath. 

 

The room pitched on its axis and his stomach rolled with the sudden lurch. Everything shuddered and shook around him as Gajeel clutched at his consciousness, Lily’s face blurring in his vision as he frowned. Darkness descended over him as his lips parted in silent protest. The last thing he heard was Lily’s soft voice as it cracked and twisted over his words.

 

“I’m sorry, Gajeel.” 

 

***********************************

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	10. Interlude- Once Upon A Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS THE UPDATE FROM HEEEEEEELL. I literally started it like five days ago T.T Wrote almost all of the update, then decided I hated it and started over, only to have it still bend me over a table and have its way with me lol Anyway, I hope y’all like it, because even though it made me want to die, I actually really do like how it turned out. I just wish it didn’t need to be so painful to get there XD Also, har har, Once Upon A (k)Night. DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~fun fact: the name liam means resolute protection. ya know, in case you were wondering~~

Gajeel Redfox was always meant for greatness. It was an inevitability that was fixed in his fate, drawn out along the length of the string the mythic Greek witches had pulled for him. His father had made sure to assure him whenever he got the chance that the stars would kneel before him one day, and though he was now dead, Gajeel had never been given a reason to doubt his father. 

 

The Iron Dragon’s own story had been one of fierce renown. Painted a hero to most and regarded a villain to others, it should have come as no surprise when he’d been slain by a crowd of enraged villagers shortly after they’d discovered their own personal bad guy was living just in the outskirts of their town. But wasn’t that the tragedy of being the hero? It was never as simple as black and white, good and evil.

 

That same village had been an enemy of the kingdom at one time. Where they’d seen themselves as the benevolent forces, Metalicana had regarded them as malevolent, and treated them as such. It had only been payback in kind all the years later when they’d slaughtered him in his home, led by a thief that had twisted events into his favor. 

 

What had been an attempted robbery had been spun into a tale of unwarranted violence by a former enemy. His father had been an illustrious warrior, but even age and twenty angry townspeople could wear such a force down. By the time Gajeel had returned from the errands he’d been sent on that day, it was already too late. The pool of crimson and Metalicana’s soulless eyes haunted his dreams since. 

 

It was the first true lesson that Gajeel learned. 

 

_Heroes were destined to be great, but never to be happy._

 

When his father’s friend, Makarov, came to visit days later, he’d found the then nine-year-old sharing his home with a corpse and looking almost as lifeless.

 

The man, who he later learned to be the king his father had once served-- even befriended-- took Gajeel in that day. Bringing him home to his kingdom, Makarov gave him all the food he could eat, water he could drink, and a plush bed to sleep. He’d even regaled Metalicana’s son with stories of their youth, words flowing freely and fondly as he spoke of his friend and times forgotten. Without any children of his own, the king treated the Iron Dragon’s son as if he were his, allowing him anything he’d asked for. It was this that led Gajeel to ask Makarov if he could begin training for the Royal Guard, knowing that the man would deny him nothing, especially the opportunity to seize the status his father had been so certain he’d obtain.

 

_I wish to follow in my father’s footsteps_ , he’d said, kneeling before the king with a practiced flourish. _I wish to serve by your side, just as he did_.

 

Though the other pages had started their training two years earlier, setting him behind by circumstance, Gajeel had prospered in the training. At first, he was regarded by his comrades in arms with vague curiosity. A newcomer amongst their ranks would only mean another prospect to beat to reach the rank of a royal guard, and one that was already so far behind could hold no competition. If anything, he would offer a moment’s entertainment before he was quickly beat until he dropped out to become a stablehand.

 

Not much time passed before he proved to the rest of the pages that he deserved their attention, acing all their lessons and passing each test of strength. 

 

Three years had passed since, and though Gajeel hadn’t made any friends of the other knights in training, he had made them take notice. Their mild indifference had curdled into full blown jealousy that was whispered in dark corners amongst themselves. With his head held high and chip balanced carefully on his shoulder, he’d listen to the rumors they hissed as he passed by, allowing them to feed the fire that blazed within his chest.

 

_The king is the only reason he’s here._

 

_He has to be cheating somehow._

 

_I heard he’s the son of the devil._

 

Each statement was more kindling, fanning the flames into a roaring bonfire that lit his eyes. With its driving force, Gajeel pushed himself to work harder until no one could stand between his singleminded focus and the grandeur he hungered for. 

 

His attention was concentrated on the single point in the distance, blinding him to all else. That tunnel vision had kept him so focused on his goal that he did not want for anyone or anything in his life. Friendships and social ties would only open him to the possibility of being let down, or worse, letting himself down. Hadn’t he learned so much from his father? He’d allowed himself to become complacent amongst others, and it ended up being his death. Gajeel wouldn’t allow others in so that he wouldn’t need to fear being stabbed in the back. 

 

He wore that philosophy like well worn armor, pushing the other pages away from him, and those pages were all too happy to let him. 

 

It wasn’t until one day at the stables that anyone broke through his defenses, with a solid right hook.

 

Gajeel had often found himself pulled towards the serene atmosphere that clung to the walls of the repository, its air still with nothing but the soft neighs disrupting the peace. Most of the other boys avoided the stable, worried they might be mistaken for something lesser than the meager position they already held, which meant it was the best place to go for an escape. He didn’t mind the near suffocating scent of horse and hay that filled the stable if it meant he could get away from the bothersome pages while he practiced. 

 

The first thing that alerted him to trouble was the low grumbling of voices that didn’t belong in the space. Several voices tripped over themselves as the unwelcome guests fought to be heard over each other. Following the sound deep into the stables, passing the pens, Gajeel picked up one voice that stood out amongst the rest.

 

“Now what would a stablehand be doing practicing sparring techniques?” It was a sneering, loathsome thing, filled with all the contempt he’d grown accustomed to. The difference was that now that the arrow filled tone was aimed at someone else, it got under his skin, filling his stomach with bubbling anger that made his fingers curl into fists. His steps only quickened when he heard the snap of a body hitting the wooden slat of one of the pens and the small huff of breath that was knocked out of it. 

 

“You aren’t in the royal guard, stablehand,” another voice hissed.

 

“And you won’t ever be,” said a third.

 

Rounding the corner at the end of the stable, Gajeel saw four boys crowded around one that was leaning into one of the pens, hand steadying himself against the wood as he glared atthose that surrounded him. The boy looked to be about his age, and was nothing but long limbs and obsidian hair. His equally dark eyes were trained on the ground, tracing imagined lines in the dirt at his feet as if he was seeing a plan play out before him. Gajeel couldn’t help but notice a strange scar that sliced through his eyebrow, puckering the skin with a crescent mark free of hair. He wondered if the other pages had given the boy that mark. None of them turned their attention to the new addition to their party, all eyes trained on the flushed stablehand, waiting for what his next move might be. The pages were wolves waiting for the rabbit to make one false move that would justify their attack. 

 

“Last I checked, you weren’t in the royal guard either,” Gajeel replied. A satisfied roll of heat rippled through him when the tallest of the boys jumped at the sound of his voice. Four sets of eyes landed on him, filled with contempt and confusion. The tallest-- presumably the leader-- recovered first, his lips turning up into a pinched smile.

 

“I didn’t think you could actually speak, Gajeel,” he said, tone filled with dark humor. “We’re honored you’d grace us with your attention.” Dropping a mocking bow, his eyes flashed upwards through his bangs, watching all the while for his reaction.

 

“And I didn’t think you could stoop any lower,” Gajeel shrugged, ignoring the growling beast beating against the cage of his ribs. “Looks like we were both wrong.”

 

The air of the stables became charged as they held each others gazes, the power struggle between the two boys confined to the six foot space that separated them. Small gasps from the stablehand were the only sounds that filled the silence as everything else dropped away. It felt like the calm before a tempest, the ominous blanket settling over his skin, raising the hair on his arms. The beast rammed against its confines again, the jolt of it blinding him with a short blast of red against his eyelids.

 

“This doesn’t concern you,” the other boy said lowly, eyes still angled towards him. Somewhere deep within their dark pits, Gajeel could see the festering glow of hatred. Spurred by the challenge in his voice, he took a step forward, fists tightening.

 

“It can concern me, or it can concern the guard,” Gajeel arched a studded brow. “Make your choice.”

 

He watched the moment the page chose to unleash his fury on the him, the corners of his mouth turning downward as he made his decision. 

 

“Devil’s son,” the boy spat, launching toward him like a cracking whip, all his energy focused into the single point of his outstretched fist. Smiling like the demon they accused him of being, Gajeel met the attack in the space between them, turning the sloppy mistake into an advantage as he sidestepped it easily. It wasn’t much of a fight as his fingers closed over the boy’s wrist, the speed of his punch pushing him passed Gajeel, and used the momentum to pull his arm behind his back. Wrenching his still closed fist upwards towards his shoulder blades, the page cried out as as Gajeel pushed the point of his knee up into his back and pushed him to his knees. 

 

The boy’s companions just stood around them, mouths agape as they tried to make sense of the chain of events that had landed their leader in the dirt and hay. Bending at the waist so that he was level with the page’s ear, Gajeel spoke, his voice void of any inflection at all.

 

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to mess with devils?” Tugging upwards on the arm for good measure, he pushed the boy away. 

 

“If you come here again, I’ll make sure to tell the guard you do not uphold the values of a knight,” he said tersely, brows set low over his eyes as he fixed each boy with a glare as he spoke. The dismissal was clear as they scrambled to exit the stables. Anything to get away from Gajeel and the serious gleam in his crimson eyes. For just a moment, he had the very presence of the Iron Dragon. 

 

As the boys scattered, leaving their friend to push himself off the ground, Gajeel turned his attention back to the stablehand who still leaned against the pen. His look was distant, as if he didn’t even realize what had occurred just moments before. Taking a tentative step forward, Gajeel raised a cautious hand.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, fingers grazing over the scratching fabric of the boy’s tunic. Though it was as light as a butterfly’s wing, it snapped the stablehand from his reverie. Without warning, a solid fist landed its blow as it found his mouth. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth and stars danced over his vision at the sudden assault. Shock stole his senses as he ran a tongue over the new split in his lip that was oozing blood down his chin and into his mouth. Once the blinding spots cleared, he saw the look of surprise that had turned the stablehand’s face into a caricature of itself. Eyes wide and mouth frozen open with a small gasp, he looked at him with so much confusion it was almost as if he’d been the one to be hit.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, pushing back further into the wood behind him as if he could disappear into it. “I didn’t, I mean, I didn’t--” 

 

“It’s fine,” Gajeel said, blood staining his teeth pink as he spoke. Clicking his jaw, he wiped a hand over his chin, only managing to smear the red further across his skin. Gathering blood and saliva into his mouth, he spit it on the floor beside him with a satisfying splat. “You have one hell of a right hook.”

 

“I’m sorry,” the other boy said again, black eyes darting to look at anything but the page in front of him. Shaking his head, Gajeel’s shoulders moved with his laughter.

 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he paused, waiting for the stablehand to fill in the empty space with his name.

 

“Liam.” The answer was so soft, he almost missed it amongst the neighing of the horses. 

 

“Liam,” Gajeel nodded in confirmation as he offered his hand. “I’m Gajeel.” 

 

A beat passed as if Liam didn’t know what the gesture was for, before he finally seized it and gave it a curt shake. Though he relaxed a little at the contact, his eyes were still filled with caution as he watched Gajeel carefully. It was a look he’d grown accustomed to, his wild black hair and ruby eyes standing out amongst most. Shrugging it off, he spoke again.

 

“I’d be happy to practice sparring with you, if you’d like.” Liam’s scarred brow shot up towards his hairline at the offer. Gajeel didn’t know why he’d made the suggestion, his own mind trying to catch up to the words that had left his mouth. He was used to his isolation, only speaking with the knights and Makarov. Anyone else was an unnecessary consequence to crossing paths with someone that mistook him as someone that enjoyed talking. Yet, looking at the stablehand, he recognized the darkness that tinged his gaze. It was the look that had distorted his own. 

 

“Why would you help a stranger?” Liam asked, curiosity winning out over his caution. Gajeel shrugged, nonchalance shaping the bow of his shoulders as to not push the other boy away.

 

“I figure you can’t be any worse than those I do know. And a punch like that shouldn’t go untrained.” The truth of it all hung between them as Liam sized him up, trying to find any hint of insincerity in the words. Time stretched as he waited for an answer, watching the conflicting emotions that flit across the stablehand’s face as he considered.

 

“Alright,” he finally said, a small smile stretching across his face as he pushed himself away from the wall. When he wasn’t cowering against the grain of the wood, he stood a couple inches taller than Gajeel. The bonds of a friendship that would last the rest of their days settled over them as the Iron Dragon’s son nodded.

 

“Alright.” It was then, standing in the stables with a devil’s smile cracking his split lip further, that Gajeel learned his second lesson.

 

_Sometimes others could give you purpose._

 

***

 

Gajeel was inducted into the Royal Guard by the time he turned 18, just a year later than his father had. It was a fact Makarov had been quick to point out with a mischievous smile. The new knight refuted it with a reminder that his father had also started training at the right age, and his own daring grin.

 

Over the years their relationship had evolved from that of an adopted familial bond to one of camaraderie, echoing that of the one the king had once had with Metalicana. He never said it aloud, but Makarov saw so much of his friend in Gajeel that often times he’d forget that they were not one in the same. 

 

Those moments when he’d see the Iron Dragon stalking the halls, only to vanish in the black armor of his son, would send a sharp pain of sorrow ricocheting through his body. The king was always quick to mask the way his expression would falter as he remembered the past. They’d been a simpler time when royal politics and fate hadn’t taken away the two people he’d held dearest, leaving behind their ghosts to haunt him in the halls. After the night with the oracle, it seemed fate still did not believe it had taken enough from him.

 

The request for a private meeting with Gajeel had come through the guard, a formality that alerted him to the irregular nature of Makarov’s inquiry. Since becoming one of his knights, the king would skip speaking through Gajeel’s superiors, coming to him directly with orders that ranged from gathering a patrol to take around the kingdom to staying by his side as he met with diplomats from foreign lands. This strangeness of it all had him on edge as he finally entered the throne room, shoulders squared beneath the pauldrons that sat atop them.

 

Makarov sat on his throne, eyes shut as he rubbed his fingers against his temples. For just a moment, Gajeel noted the way age had grayed his hair and etched lines into his face. Stepping further into the room, he cleared his throat to alert the king of his presence before dropping to a knee before him.

 

“You wished to speak with me?” He asked, filling his voice with as much etiquette as he could. Speaking to the king as a knight and not as his adopted son was something he’d never been good at, easily slipping back into the latter whenever they’d discussed plans and orders. Makarov’s eyes opened, settling their cool blue gaze on him from where he sat. A weariness touched their corners, pinching them at the edges.

 

“Will you do anything for me?” The question was sharp, pointed at the edges as the words slipped from the king’s mouth without any preface. Gajeel felt his eyebrows pull together in confusion and concern as he looked up at the older man.

 

“As your knight, or as your kin?” He asked, letting bewilderment color his tone. A knight would follow any order from his king, having no other choice due to the oath he had taken. Kin would do so of their own accord. Gajeel would never disobey an order from Makarov, but the distinction would mean all the difference between obligation and choice.

 

“As you, Gajeel,” Makarov sighed, the unfamiliar veil of pleading falling over his face. “Will you protect someone for me?” 

 

The weight of the request settled on his shoulders as he ruminated over the vague request.

 

“Who?” Gajeel asked. Doubt and confusion were a heated mix as they started to rush through his veins. Something was wrong, he could see it in the way the older man was hunched in his throne as if the world rest upon his shoulders and it was crushing him slowly.

 

“A young woman, living in the outskirts of the kingdom.” Still vague in his explanation, Makarov continued to speak. “I need you to swear that you will do whatever it takes to gain her trust and protect her.”

 

After a moment’s pause, his gaze boring into the king as if he could pull the answers straight from his mind, Gajeel spoke again.

 

“Why her?” Those two words cracked what little composure the king had clung to, its mask falling away as his features contorted with fear.

 

“You should not need a reason to follow my orders, Gajeel,” Makarov snapped, his voice uncharacteristically harsh as he spoke. Despair colored his tone with a muddled anger, his emotion displaced as his dark eyes bore into the knight. “I just need to know that you will do anything to keep her safe.”

 

Shoulders tensed and expression stormy, the king was a fearsome sight. For the first time in all the years he had known him, Gajeel was frightened by the man. He almost didn’t look human as he glared down at him. It was the look of a man that had lost nearly everything, and was ready to do whatever it took to keep what was left safe.

 

It was this in mind that Gajeel assented, nodding his head curtly as asking what it was that his king needed of him. 

 

That was when Gajeel learned his third lesson.

 

_Fear could sway even the most resilient of men._

 

***

 

The hardest thing Gajeel had ever done, was deceive the blue haired woman that opened the door of the cottage that day. 

 

_May I help you?_

 

He had practiced the lie he would use to gain entrance into her home. Had planned how he would get the unknown woman to trust him so he could fulfill his king’s order. What Gajeel hadn’t planned for was the way her golden eyes snatched the breath from his lungs. No amount of preparation could have readied him for the way his heart stuttered in his chest, stopping momentarily before throwing itself into the cage of his ribs when she smiled up at him and invited him in.

 

_Levy_. Her name was Levy. And she had enamored him completely by the end of that first meeting. Day after day he returned under the guise of completing the job that had been set for him by Makarov, gaining her trust with honeyed words and sugared intent. He was so dedicated to the ruse, that at some point the gimmick became truth. 

 

Eventually, he stopped returning to the castle, opting to stay with her full time under the thinly disguised excuse of added protection. Ignoring the quizzical look from the queen, the heavy handed silence of the king and the growing pressure located just behind his sternum, Gajeel became a staple in Levy’s life, and she became one in his. 

 

When his father had told Gajeel he’d manage to obtain greatness, he hadn’t thought that greatness would so easily fit against his chest, clutched within the halo of his arms. Levy had worked her way into his heart slowly, her hold upon his affections tightening ever so slowly that he hadn’t noticed she held it completely in her palm until it was already too late. She was the other half of his soul; the light to his darkness; daylight to his moonlight night sky. Her radiance grounded him, and her brilliance enthralled him. All she needed to do was smile up at him, the sun dancing in her hair and wind rouging her cheeks, to land a carefully shot arrow between his ribs.

 

She built him up while simultaneously holding all the power to tear him down. But wasn’t that the glory of love? Odes, and sonnets, and epics were created in honor of the sheer heroism that came with loving and being loved in return. 

 

Happiness filled his days, pushing his original intentions to the deep recesses of his mind. Soon, Makarov’s original request was lost in the far reaches of Gajeel’s memory, buried beneath honey eyes and azure hair. It was enough to lull the Iron Dragon’s son into a false reality, seeing only what he wanted to and ignoring the very fact he’d learned all those years ago.

 

Heroes weren’t meant to be happy. He had let himself forget that truth. The mistake was fatal, leading him to the final lesson that he would learn.

 

_Love was worth dying for._

 

_****************_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***UPDATED NOTE 11/3*** My multi chapters are on a semi hiatus because of 12 Days of ODM and Secret Santa gifts! There will most likely only be one update this month and 1-2 next month so I can focus on making everyone's presents so they're out on time and up to standard :) Promise this isn't abandoned, just need to focus on some holiday stuff cuz TIS THE SEASON! ~~of the 13 things i have to write, two have been completed, one is half done, one is like 1/3 done and they other is mapped out so i mean we're getting there~~ If you wanna see what I'm up to, see sneak peeks and/or just see my random musings, you can find me on tumblr at theolddarkmachine or on Twitter @odmwrites :D
> 
> Need some more Gajevy to pass the time while you wait for the next update? Check out my profile if you wanna see petsitter!Levy, the saddest picnic, my late and valiant attempt at Gajevy week, and/or what happened when Gajeel _didn't_ return from the Bloodman fight.
> 
> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


	11. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOHOOOOO NOVEMBER UPDATE IS UP! Again, I feel I need to apologize for cutting back so much on updates during the holidays. It was necessary though because I definitely needed to focus on the 12 Days of ODM. AAAAND even better news, it's paying off because 7 out of 12 are completed! 
> 
> I hope that you find this update worth it. Actual notes in my notebook about this chapter: This is the step before the top of the rollercoaster hill. 
> 
> So I'm hoping y'all are starting to get that feeling right before the coaster pitches ya over the hill, cuz that's where we're at lol
> 
> ALSO CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)

Consciousness crested over Gajeel like an incoming tide, ebbing over his body slowly like waves until he was wholly aware of the light painting the backs of his eyelids red and the cool dampness of a cloth across his forehead. A thick fog was still working his way through his mind, accompanied by a manufactured silence that did nothing to sooth the sudden spike of her nerves. How did he get there? Just a moment before he was certain he’d been speaking with Lily.

 

And then—

 

His gasp was a sharp intake that tore through his throat and chest like a beast as he sat upright, knocking the cooled fabric from his forehead to his lap as his eyes flew open.

 

_It was real._

 

The dream and all its reoccurrences, hadn’t been a creation of his own imagination, but memories of a life he’d once lived. This time, instead of the all too familiar darkness that he had grown accustomed to, he’d been met with vivid images of a king, of an order, and of the beautiful blue haired woman that he’d fallen in love with. He could almost still feel the weight of her head on his chest. Could still taste her on his tongue. She had been his.

 

And if that was the truth, he had also died. In fact, he had died for her.

 

_Save her._

 

Gajeel’s hand shook as he ran it through his hair, a small, nervous sound escaping him as his mind raced to accept the impossible nature of it all. Somehow, he was the knight that had appeared before him in his bathroom. 

 

Somehow, he had died.

 

Though the certainty of the truth was crackling in his veins like a lightning storm, he was still unsure of the nature that had caused it to be so. Even now, as he tried to reach the memory of his death, he was met by a wall that stopped any progress. 

 

With an aggravated huff, Gajeel grabbed the cloth from his lap and threw it across the room, ignoring the wet slap of the fabric against the wall. He needed answers. Needed to find the end to the maze the stood between him and the explanation as to how he had lived a life centuries ago.

 

A small cough dragged him back from the brink of his entangled thoughts as he turned towards the sound, only to see Lily sitting in a chair that he’d set next to the couch. His corded arms were crossed over his chest as he looked over his adopted brother, an eyebrow raised as he appraised him. As if he had any right to scrutinize.

 

_I’m sorry, Gajeel._

 

The sharp sting of betrayal wore a blunt hole in his chest as he returned the stare. In all the years that they had known each other, and all the times they’d spoken of the strange dream, Lily had never said anything. Instead, he’d offered false explanations and possibilities all the while holding the truth behind the recurrent vision close. 

 

''How long have you known?" Gajeel asked, the question burning his throat with the acidic suspicion that dripped from every word. Lily held his glare, meeting it with one of unabashed honesty. Before him sat the best friend and brother he had grown to know, and yet they sat regarding each other like strangers. There was a moment's pause before lily sighed, the very breath leaving in one long rush of sound that seemed to deflate him.

 

''I've always known, Gajeel," he said, not looking away as he kept his voice steady. It was the same pitch and even cadence that one might use when speaking to a wild animal. Gajeel wondered if Lily thought he might bite.

 

Hell, he wondered the same.

 

They continued to regard each other, a hundred questions flinging themselves silently into the ever growing distance that seemed to carve deeper and further between them. It was as his gaze danced over his adopted brother in an attempt to pull the answers straight from his head, that he noticed the bruise like shadows that had etched themselves under his eyes.

 

‘’We’re protectors, me and my family,” Lily began to speak again once he realized Gajeel wasn't going to ask another question. As much as he wanted to, he didn't even know where to start. How was he even supposed to begin to ask the man before him to unravel the lies that had made up the fabric of his life? Even if Gajeel himself knew which thread to begin to pull, he wasn't even sure he would. The sharp tang of fear coated the back of his tongue at the mere thought of confirming what he already knew.

 

Everything he knew was a lie.

 

“Liam was the first. He’d been best friends with the Black Dragon, son of the Iron Dragon.” His voice was almost dream like as he spoke, reciting the words like an all too familiar mantra that had been told to him over and over again. Lily’s eyes glinted in the light as they flashed upwards toward his face. 

 

“With you,” he rectified. “He had been a stableboy at the castle, and you had saved him from some boys that thought their status set them above him. Which, while true, didn’t seem to bother you much.”

 

A dark chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, the weight of the tale apparent in the way his shoulders dipped. 

 

“But then the king ordered you to leave. To protect a woman without any knowledge of who she was, only that you must keep her safe. Thing was, he didn’t plan on you falling in love. At least, as far as the story goes.” Lily shrugged before he leant forward, forearms bracing over his knees as his onyx eyes searched Gajeel’s crimson as if in search of something.

 

Something that would expose any familiarity to the memories that belonged to him, told from side of someone that didn’t live them. Yet the only recognition he could find, was hidden in the light blue hair that had haunted his dreams, pulled him in front of a vehicle, and splayed across his pillow.

 

“Bits and pieces of the tale have been lost in translation and changed so much over time that I can’t tell you how it happened, but you both ended up cursed.” 

 

Gajeel felt the breath catch in his chest, the suddenness of it opening a burning hole behind his sternum. Almost as soon as Lily had spoken the word, he knew recalled the sharp sound of bitter laughter and the oppressive weight as darkness had descended on him, only punctuated by the searing pain in his chest. 

 

“What was the curse?” He asked, voice a barely above a whisper as he tried to speak over the stone that had cut off his breath. Gajeel watched as Lily sighed, bringing both his hands up towards his hair and carding his fingers through it, pausing momentarily with his head held up by his palms. It wasn’t until he looked back up that he answered.

 

“To relive finding each other, only to lose one another again.”

 

Unease opened up in his gut like a beast freed of shackles, tearing into the soft flesh with the intent to destroy. His dreams had always pointed him towards love. As his consciousness had faded away into what he now knew was death, his last thoughts were always of golden eyes and sky filled hair. The ill omen had even disguised itself in the mirror vision, those two haunting words falling from his doppleganger’s lips as his ruby stare cut through him.

 

_Save her._

 

Only now, he heard the edge of the words that gave them a darker, more sinister feel. Save her, but at what cost?

 

How many times had he saved her, and died in the process?

 

Had he ever even saved her at all?

 

Gajeel pushed the aching throb in his throat down just long enough to get out his next words, already knowing their answer but needing to hear it anyway. It wouldn’t be real until he heard it. Shuffling where he sat so that he was now turned fully towards Lily so he could fix him with his unwavering gaze, he bit out the only question that mattered.

 

“Is it Levy?”

 

Time stopped around them, its constant movement stalled by the simple question. He felt the weight of it, crushing down around his shoulders as the images from the dream beat against the inside of his skull. Her hands. Her lips. The softness of her in his arms. Fear as it corroded his veins. Pain, as it tore the very life from within him.

 

What was mere seconds had opened up into an endless stasis in which the only things left moving were Gajeel’s innermost thoughts and Lily’s downturning mouth.

 

With his heart hammering a dent into the back of his ribs, he waited for the answer that would be the nail in his own coffin. When they finally came, they were filled with the same rasp of a man taking his final breath.

 

“Yes. And she will kill you.”

 

***

 

Levy jolted from the dream as if she’d been shocked from the depths of her slumber by an unseen force that ran an electric current through her body. Her skin was heated and flushed as she worked to catch her breath, somehow lost to her as if she’d been running instead of sleeping with her cheek pressed against the cool surface of her desk. Even her throat ached, as if it had been torn with the screams that had filled her dream.

 

The experience had been harrowing, one moment she was in her room and the next she had been swallowed into an inky darkness before finding herself thrust into the foreign feel of her own body. 

 

Only, it wasn’t really her body.

 

She had found herself a spectator while trapped within the confines of her imagined self, watching the love story between the maiden and the knight play out before her eyes. Levy had watched as Gajeel’s eyes had softened as he’d looked at her. Seen the way his careful touches became caresses that evolved into so much more. She’d even felt the ever present growth of a new star trapped behind her ribs each time she had returned the affections.

 

Everything had been good, and pure, and light. 

 

Then Levy watched as it became corrupted and twisted, the pain of it too much to bear as the dream faded from scene to scene until the finale, where she was clutching Gajeel to her chest as blood rushed from a gaping wound in his chest. The aching throb of her anguish was only amplified when she realized that the dagger that had dealt the fatal wound was clutched within her fist.

 

It had been the sinister glint of the light on the blade that had sent her reeling through whatever darkness had pulled her into the dream in the first place and dropped her back into the real world. Gulping down large breaths, Levy pulled both of her hands through her hair in a failed attempt at collecting herself. 

 

With her heart still stuttering, she looked down at the book that still lay open before her, the painted pictures pointed upwards to the sky in a frozen scene from the dream. A small hiss escaped her as she slammed the cover shut before pushing herself away from the desk. Dropping her head against the back of her chair, Levy squeezed her eyes shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. 

 

_There’s a perfectly good explanation for this_ , she thought to herself, desperately clutching at rationality to keep herself afloat.

 

It was pure coincidence that Levy had made a connection between her and the blue haired woman in the book, and Gajeel and the night. He had been an object of her attention for long enough that it only made sense her mind would find similarities where there weren’t any. After all, it was one thing to believe the stories she studied could have actually happened. It was another entirely to be living one.

 

Yet, it had all felt real. So real that Levy could still smell the greenery that had surrounded the hut that they’d lived in. Could still hear his words as they’d caressed the shell of her ear while he had exchanged his own stories with her. She could even still feel the heat of him from where he’d lay dying in her arms.

 

There was no way the dream had really been her memories.

 

And yet—

 

Three sharp raps against her door shook her of the impossible thoughts that were swirling in and around her mind like fog. Feet rubbing over the carpet of her floor, Levy pulled herself towards the knocking that sounded again, impatiently again as it repeated its sharp cadence. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but one guess would place Lucy on the other side of the door. Most likely, she’d be standing there looking sheepish, as if she hadn’t left Levy completely wasted at a bar.

 

If her brain wasn’t in the middle of liquifying, she would probably make Lucy work for her forgiveness. Be that as it may, she no longer had it in her to fight over what was considered abandonment with her best friend. All she wanted were answers that the blonde would not be able to give her.

 

“Look, Luce, you’re already forgiven,” she spoke as she flung the door open only to find the words sticking to the inside of her throat as she realized that the person on the other side was not her best friend. Where crystalline blue eyes should have been looking down at her, instead, she was only met by an endless pool of violet. 

 

Levy exhaled a short, surprised noise between her teeth before she spoke.

 

“Hi, Aunt Kearia.”

 

*******************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that Kingdom is still on semi-hiatus until 12 Days of ODM and Sheith Secret Santa are completed. Next update will be some time in December before we return to our regularly scheduled program of once a week!


	12. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW IT HAS BEEN A REALLY LONG TIME HUH! Thank you guys for waiting so long for the update on this. I def had bitten off more than I could chew when I thought I could do the 12 Days prompts, Secret Santa and still do consistent updates, so y’all the true MVPs for putting up with me when I cut back on the multichaps lol I’ll be the first to admit that this was a bit harder to get back into than I thought, but it didn’t help that this chapter is introducing a whole other character. So not only was I dealing with coming back after like a month and a half, but I was writing a character that wasn’t even someone that I’ve been dealing with in that time off. RIP. Anyway, hang in there with me, this seems like a lot, but without any real payoff. It’s there. I swear.

The deep amethyst of her aunt’s eyes had Levy frozen in place as she looked up at the tall woman, confusion and something a bit more ominous buzzing under her skin. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her aunt, per se. In fact, the woman was the only family she had left, as Levy was the only family still left to her. That kind of circumstance comes with obligatory appreciation. No matter how contrived it may have been, it was still there, even if they were nothing more to the other than the occasional birthday and Christmas cards.

“Are you going to let me in?” She asked, her voice husky and smooth like sweet smoke. Darkness was curling around the edges of her words, as if there was a joke that Levy wasn’t aware of.

More specifically, that she wasn’t invited to be aware of.

Shaking her head free of of her thoughts, Levy stepped aside to open the door further.

“Yeah, sorry, come in.”

With a curt nod, her aunt crossed the threshold of her apartment, heels clicking loudly on the tile of her foyer before she reached the carpet.

“Did I catch you at a bad time, dear?” Kearia asked, not seeming particularly worried on if she had, in fact, come at a bad time. Sitting lightly on her large, plush couch, her aunt looked out of place amongst the tattered gray fabric. She had an almost regal air about her as she crossed her legs, her straight back better suited for a throne rather than the couch that was almost as old as Levy was.

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting any company is all,” she offered quickly, brushing off the strange tug of a familiar ache in the pit of her stomach. The swirling nexus of what felt a lot like fear was tugging at her insides, turning her blood cold as she went to join her guest on the opposite end of the couch.

A small voice in the back of her mind beat itself against her skull as it tried to get her to recall a memory so distant, she wasn’t even entirely sure it was her own. It danced away from her mind’s grasp in a taunting manner, nothing but blacks and reds and frozen air.

“My apologies, Levy, I should have called first. But I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to see my favorite niece,” her aunt offered her explanation before Levy could even ask for it, as if she could feel it pressing itself onto the tip of her tongue.

“I’m your only niece,” Levy tried to laugh, instead managing nothing more than a hollowed, brittle sound as her head pulsated with the distant memory and her incessant headache. The corner of Kearia’s mouth twitched upwards as she looked at her, purple gaze hardened into sharp amethysts that cut into her skin.

“Which only proves that it’s the truth,” she purred. Levy couldn’t help but draw comparison’s between herself and a predator’s dinner as she stared down her aunt’s smile. A frozen drop of panic rolled down her spine.

_Run._

The single word was a hushed whisper against the back of her neck, raising the hair along her arms and her nape. This wasn’t the first time she had felt the bubbling fear coursing through her in her aunt’s presence. Ever since she was younger, she would swear she could feel something sinister looming under the surface of Kearia’s composed exterior. Something that made her body reel against the rest of her senses as it fought to get as far away as possible.

As time passed and she grew, Levy learned to swallow down the dread, chocking up her anxieties to her wild imagination. Too many stories and not enough reins tethering her thoughts to reality made it easy to lose herself to a made up world where her mostly absent aunt had a much darker purpose. The reasoning had helped her ignore the small voice that would warn her away from the sharp smile, and she hadn’t felt the electric sting of adrenaline caused by Kearia’s presence in quite some time.

But now, it was cascading over her with all the force of a waterfall, drowning her in an overflowing crest of expansive fear. It stole her breath, leaving a burning sensation in its place as her lungs fought for air.

“Tell me, Levy, how have you been?” She asked, eyeing her as if she could see straight through the muscle and bone to the organs beneath them. Then, it was gone. All the stinging pressure dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared, cool air filling her as she sucked it in past the burnt inside of her lungs.

“I’ve been,” she started, rubbing at her sternum as her brows knit together before continuing, her voice flat as she spoke. “I’ve been okay.”

“Just okay?” Kearia dug, leaning forward to rest her elbow on her knee, propping her chin on her palm as she studied Levy closely. The purple of her eyes darkened into a stormy sky. “Levy, have you been holing yourself up again?”

Her interest was strange, mingling in the grey area between maternal and nosy.

 _Why do you care?_  The voice bit back, erring towards bitter before Levy pushed it further back.

“Aunt Kearia, you know I’m busy with my thesis,” she was a little more successful in her laugh this time as she waved a hand, brushing aside the question. “Didn’t you know grad school requires you to not have a life?”

“Mmhm,” Kearia hummed, her perfectly manicured black eyebrow shooting up towards her hairline. “So no young men in your life?”

Air stuck to the inside of her throat as she was hit with the vivid image of the knight from her dream bleeding out in her arms, tears dotting his cheeks from where they’d fallen from her own eyes.

“No,” she breathed, standing abruptly, the sudden motion startling her aunt as her eyes widened and she pushed back. “I forgot to ask if you’d like anything to drink.”

Tripping over her words, Levy made her way towards her kitchen before Kearia could respond. Heated pinpricks bore holes between her shoulder blades

“Is water okay?” She asked, not bothering to look back as she stumbled into the kitchen, hands grasping at the countertop to steady herself against the vertigo that had pitched the world forward. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she heard the distant cries again, her own voice screaming out to Gajeel in a vain attempt to keep him tethered to Earth. But it was too late.

I had been too late.

He died.

No, she refused to believe that the dream was real.

_But it had to be._

Levy’s knuckles turned white as she clutched the counter’s edge, working to breathe through the vision as she recalled the dream.

“Yes, dear, water is fine,” Kearia answered, her voice sounding much further than just her living room. All of Levy’s instincts fought against her as she tried to pick apart the tangled visions and thoughts. Everything told her it was real. She had felt the warm liquid spilling over her hands. Had felt the stinging tears as they’d burnt tracks down her cheeks.

She’d watched as death had dulled Gajeel’s eyes.

Yet she could not believe it. Even though she had built her life around believing that the stories she’d dedicated herself to were founded in reality, she rebelled against the possibility. It was one thing to believe the stories were real.

It was another entirely to be a part of one.

Bending at the waist to lower her head between her arms, Levy drank in large gulps of air. Each cooled gasp pushed itself through the burning confusion as she pushed down the vision of Gajeel’s dusky eyes. Several moments passed as she counted her breaths, in for two counts and out for two until her heart rate slowed and it no longer hurt to breathe.

Straightening herself up, she reached for two glasses from her cabinet, ignoring the way her hands trembled as they held the cups in their grasp.

 _Get it together_ , she admonished herself as as her hand slipped slightly, sending rivulets of water rolling down the side of a glass and pooling onto the counter.  _You’re just very hungover._

Those words became her mantra as she repeated the lie over and over, their mental cadence carrying her back into the living room.

“I thought I would have to go in there and rescue you,” her aunt laughed as she took her offered glass, fingertips brushing over the back of Levy’s hand and sending a shot of electricity burning up the nerves of her arm. Biting down on a hiss, she pulled away and made her way back to the other side of the couch.

“I just spilled a bit of water and had to clean it up,” she said before taking a sip of the liquid, it’s cool edge smoothing over the bitter taste at the back of her throat.

_Run._

A small sound almost like a purr lifted itself from Kearia’s chest as her mauve gaze held her in place on the couch. Out of the corner of her eye, Levy could see her long nailed clutch tighten on her glass. For just a moment, the woman beside her didn’t even look like her aunt as her face contorted into a misshapen, rage filled mask. Lips pulling back over her teeth in a snarl and eyebrows pulling together, she looked like a monster as she leant forward.

Levy’s head snapped towards Kearia, eye widening as she saw her aunt still sitting there gracefully, taking a small sip from her water.

 _It’s okay, Levy_ , she thought as her heart hammered against the back of her sternum.  _You’re just very hungover._

“So tell me about your thesis. What’s it about?” Another polite question that hid poisoned barbs.

_It’s okay._

_Run._

Grinding her teeth against the warring emotions that pumped adrenaline through her, making her muscles twitch with anticipation, she chewed on her answer.

“I’m exploring the possibility of myths and stories being grounded in reality,” her words shook as she held Kearia’s hard gaze as if they were forced. Though, with the bitter taste of fear coating her tongue, she supposed they were.

“The one I’m working with a story about a dragon that befriends a prince, who later becomes a king. My argument though, is that the iron dragon may have actually been a real person, and that that was just a nickname.”

A spark of something almost like recognition flashed through the distant purple of her aunt’s eyes as she listened to her speak, only further burying the burning lump of fear in her gut. The way she was looking at her was almost like she knew something that Levy didn’t. Her lips twitched, their corners pulling up into a near smug smile as Levy continued to tell the story of the dragon and her theories.

“It sounds like you’ve done a lot of research, dear,” Kearia finally interjected, carefully setting her glass on the coffee table. “And it sounds like a very interesting story.”

Only, the way she said it made it sound like it wasn’t very interesting at all.

“I’m afraid though, that I need to cut this visit short,” she continued, standing abruptly from where she sat. Towering over Levy, she looked down at her over the bridge of her nose. The effect was a sharp pointed thing that looked and felt a lot like a glare.

“I suddenly don’t feel all too well. But we do so need to catch up, Levy dear.”

Following suit, Levy stood, putting her now empty glass next to her aunt’s as the woman opened her arms out to her for a hug.

_Run._

Walking forward into the halo of her arms, Levy found herself pressed into her aunt in a warm embrace, her crown just barely meeting Kearia’s chin.

“Do try and get out a little more,” she said into Levy’s hair, voice twisting into almost overdone concern. “You deserve a break from time-to-time.”

Her nails pricked into the skin of Levy’s arms as she clutched at her biceps, using her hold to push her back so she could look down at her. A predatory smile cracked her red painted lips.

“I’m so proud of you.”

And then she was gone. Before Levy was even able to pick her way through the wreckage of the swirling vortex in her mind, Kearia had shown herself out, the door slamming shut behind her. The harsh snap of the door faded into the now empty room as she stood alone. Spikes of dulled pain rolled through the base of her skull as she attempted to make sense of what had just happened.

The static hum of panic was still tickling the inside of her skin as she rubbed a hand over the back of her neck in a vain attempt at easing the tension there.

Images from the dream began to roll through her mind, no longer held back by the distraction of her aunt as she caught flashes of what she refused to believed was a dream. The severity of it sent her world pitching forward again, catching her off balance and causing her stomach to roil within her. Bile rose quickly in her throat as her body finally succumbed to the continuous pitching between her emotions and the dread fueled adrenaline.

Clasping a hand over her mouth, she found herself running towards the bathroom for the second time that day.

As she made her way passed her desk, she didn’t notice that the book was gone.


	13. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeeee another chapter! I’m gonna stop pretending I’m back on weekly updates now, because clearly, I am not XD ~~I JUST KEEP ADDING THINGS TO THE TO-DO LIST WAH I’M SORRY.~~ Anyway, so here’s a wild fun fact, we’re six chapters from the end of Kingdom. Can you believe?! Me either lol Another fun fact? This is the last chapter of questions. After this there are answers. Lots, and lots of answers. And possibly pain. (Read: Lots, and lots of pain.) So uh, enjoy the calm before the storm lol ~~also hi yes also in case you missed it theres a gajevy vday fic coming which is partially why the delay in this update~~

_Why?_

The single word had tinged his existence a darker shade of grey as Gajeel was haunted by the continuous replaying of his talk with Lily.

_Why?_

_The story has changed so many times, I can’t be sure, but it is said that the queen was the one that did it._

_But why?_

_If it’s true, she wanted Levy to feel the pain of loss, stretched across all her lifetimes._

Growling under his breath, Gajeel threw his weight into a particularly difficult spot that marred the top of his bar as he let his frustration bleed into the force he exerted. No matter how many times he’d asked, and no matter how many times Lily had replied, he still wasn’t any closer to a real answer.

All that Lily had known was nothing more than possibilities, the truth trapped within the binding of a single book that had been lost to time. Hypotheticals were the only tether to a past he’d only seen glimpses of, and wasn’t even quite sure he believed existed. Even with all the evidence, he still reeled against the possibilities of his impossible truth.

Days had passed since the discovery, and Gajeel wasn’t necessarily avoiding his problems. At least, that’s what he told himself as he’d put his phone on silent and taken on more shifts at the bar than he normally would have. No, he just needed time to work things out. To work out what exactly it meant to be cursed to die for a woman he hardly knew.

What it meant to know, and not be able to do anything about it.

Worst of all, what it meant to know that he would die, and not even care.

Because when it came down to it, Gajeel would die for her. Hell, he’d already thrown himself in front of a truck for her. His problem wasn’t with the situation at all, so much as the realization of his own feelings. Being a reincarnated knight, he could figure out.

The way his stomach dropped each time he checked his phone and didn’t see Levy’s name on the screen, he could not.

With a sigh, he pulled away from the mark, its dark stain stubborn as it stared back at him with all its smudged glory, lit only by the dimmed lights of the bar. It had been days since Levy had walked out of his apartment, leaving him alone with the memory of her blue hair as she disappeared through his doorway.

They’d exchanged numbers, and aside from a quick text that she had made it home in one piece, he hadn’t heard from her since. Something about the hollowness that bled out over his chest felt wrong, leaving behind the biting tang of unease. The only thing that kept it from wholly consuming him was the small voice that reminded him that she wasn’t his.

 _Yet_ , he bit back.

Gajeel’s black shirt vibrated against his skin with the force of the bass that danced around his body. It felt ominous in its own right, its growling coming louder and closer than it ever had, wrapping itself around him like a beast behind the bar where he stood.

Ironside itself felt animalistic.

Standing at its entrance had felt like standing in front of a monster and staring down its gaping jaw without any form of defense. It had been enough to make his skin prickle with foreboding as bile worked itself upwards towards the top of his throat with its burning bitterness. Everything about the bar felt wrong.

Almost as if it too, was in on the plot to end his life.

“Hello, handsome,” a voice purred, curling around the edges in a sharpened caress as a taloned hand ran over the stained spot that had held his attention. Ripping his thoughts away from death, Levy and the stubborn mark, Gajeel let his eyes slip up from the wood until he found his crimson gaze caught by one made of amethyst.

The woman that stood before him looked completely misplaced against the backdrop of the bar behind her. Dressed in a black dress cut more for business instead of pleasure, she stood straight with her chin raised high. On anyone else, it would look snobbish. As if she was looking down at those beneath her. In her, however, it gave her a sense of regality. It suited her, and if Gajeel hadn’t known better, he would think her something closer to a queen than someone looking to spend her night at the bar.

With the red lighting that drenched everything along his countertop crimson gracing the sharp points of her face, she carried all the beauty of a wild tiger. Stunning, but dangerous. 

Her lips pulled back over her teeth in a blood colored impersonation of a smile as she dragged the purple of her stare up and down his body. Heart seizing in his chest as if frozen by the sudden grip of fear, Gajeel tried to breath around the feel of sudden panic burning through him.

“What can I get ya?” He pushed through the fear as it coated the back of his tongue with its acrid sting. Everything in him was telling him to run from the hard cut jewel stare. They stood in silence, the thrum of the music falling away from him as they looked each other over. She didn’t make any move to answer, instead opting to run her pointed nails back over the bar.

After allowing the moment to stretch uncomfortably long, Gajeel opened his mouth to ask his question again, sure she hadn’t heard.

“You never change, do you?” She finally spoke, voice lower, and darker. Almost as if it had been mired in shadows. Another pang of something like dread heaved itself against the walls of his gut.

“Have we met before?” He asked, searching his thoughts for an recollection of the woman, only to find himself hitting a wall each time he felt himself get closer. The woman moved forward, settling herself onto a bar stool as her smile widened. Underneath the friendly exterior, he only saw frost. It was a look filled with the knowledge of something he was not privy to.

“My mistake, dear,” she soothed with all the same comfort of a venomous snake as she shook her head. “You just look like someone I knew a lifetime ago.”

Caught under the weight of her biting smile, Gajeel reached for a glass, mindlessly trying to place his attentions on something other than the way the glimmer of her teeth cut into him like sharpened knives.

“He must’ve made an impression,” he muttered, finally tearing his eyes away as he grabbed for a towel.

 _She probably just needs someone to talk to_ , he told himself as he started to wipe at the smudges on the cup. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had walked into Ironside looking for a cheaper and more enjoyable alternative to a therapist. Easing himself into the comfort of the barely veiled lie, he stole a quick glance of the woman just in time to see her mouth twitch downward.

“Quite,” she said sharply, her expression twisting with shadows cast from the ever moving lights of the bar.

“Didn’t end well, I take it?” Gajeel prodded, hand twisting the towel around the now pristine surface of the glass, if only to give himself something else to preoccupy his mind aside from that voice beating inside his mind. Pushing back against her words and the mad thump of the music, it kept on in its insistence that something was wrong.

“Not for either of us, I’m afraid.” The words were a hiss that cut into him. His hand stalled as they wrapped themselves around his throat, choking him of air.

“Bad breakup?” He managed around the tight grip that cut off his breathing.

 _It’s okay_ , he told himself as he dragged air down into his lungs, fighting back the sudden burn in his chest.

“I suppose you could call it that,” the woman’s voice dipped back into her earlier purr as she bore holes into him with her stare. Gajeel’s grip tightened around the glass, his knuckles turning a stark white, as he felt the sharp sting of a pointed claw dragging down the back of his neck.

A static moment stole his senses, dipping him into silence as he found himself held like a mouse staring up at a snake. In the distance, he could hear the strain of a voice calling his name as if he was caught underwater. That voice sounded so familiar. And it sounded like it was crying.

And then, it was gone. Air burst into his lungs as the sharpened sensation disappeared from around his throat. The music came roaring back to life, nearly deafening him as he set the the glass down onto the counter, using his newly freed hand to steady himself with the hard surface.

The woman, in turned, just smiled.

 _It’s okay_ , he repeated, ignoring the smaller voice that contradicted his own thought.

_No, it’s not._

“Well, you’ve come to the right place to forget him for awhile,” Gajeel said, aware of the way his voice wavered as if he’d just run a marathon. All he needed to do was get their conversation back on track. If he got her her drink, she could leave, and then he could slip out to catch his breath. Her eyes glowed with the red light, her gaze becoming amethyst mired in blood as she replied.

“I hear you make a great cocktail.”

Another breath.

_It’s okay._

_No, it’s not._

“You’ve heard right,” he said with a smile, aware that it would probably look more like a grimace. If she noticed the way it hadn’t quite touched his eyes, she didn’t say anything.

“I’ll take a Blue Princess.” Flicking her hand through the air with the same flourish of the royalty she seemed to embody, she gave her order with feigned nonchalance. Even with the thick covering of indifference, he could still hear the hint of something else. Quickly fishing out the alcohol and mixers needed to create the drink, Gajeel filled her glass with the swirling blue liquid.

Setting it before her gently, he took the money she had set before him.

“Keep the change,” she soothed, licking across her bottom lip as she grabbed the drink. Running a finger across the rim, she regarded it with a strange fire in her eye before she brought it to her lips. With a quick flick of her wrist, and a tip of her head, she threw it back, nothing but ice clinking against the glass when she dropped it back on the counter.

_It’s okay._

_No, it’s not._

“It was good seeing you, Gajeel.” Carefully stepping down from the barstool, she fixed him with a final smile touched by razorblades and ice. Turning away, she started to make her way towards the crowd of swaying bodies, throwing her last words over her shoulder before she disappeared amongst them.

“Thank you for the drink.”

It wasn’t until much later, after he had disappeared into the supply closet under the pretense of needing more glasses, after settling the spinning feeling that had left him reeling, and after he’d returned home from the bar more exhausted than usual, that Gajeel realized something.

_It was good seeing you, Gajeel._

The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place a loud click in the otherwise silent apartment.

He hadn’t told her his name.

Vibrations erupted from his pocket as his phone went off with a message alert, sending his heart up into his throat as he grabbed it. Across the screen, he saw Levy’s name, and accompanying it was a simple line of text.

**Hey, can we meet up? I was hoping we could talk.**

**************************


	14. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have any notes on this one other than we be getting answers, ya know? This one and the next one ~~titled once upon a death haha go off sis~~ should answer what you need to know and uh, hopefully make things super climatic and awesome. I mean, that's the plan anyway lol Soooooo, enjoy :)

The dull throb of pain led Levy from the depths of the pitch black sleep she had found herself mired in. Fighting against its hold and gasping around a thick rope twining around her throat, the ache blossomed into a white hot light that seared through her bones, branded her skin and blinded her eyes as she finally opened them. A momentary blindness stole her vision as her eyes adjusted to the light of the room as she tried to push herself upward, only to find rope biting into her wrists and ankles. Pushed between her teeth, was a thick cloth that muffled her short sound of surprise, and almost made her choke around the dryness that had dusted the back of her tongue.

Fear and adrenaline rushed through her veins, the dual beat of their rhythmic pulses deafening her in the otherwise silent room.

 _This isn’t right_ , she thought desperately as she began to shift her eyes around the room in search of any sign of where she was.  _I shouldn’t be here. I should be—_

_Where?_

Frantically, her mind picked at the shrapnel of memory scattered across her mind’s surface in search of any clues, only to find blank pieces of slate. Where was she meant to be?

Where had she even been before this?

_What had happened to her?_

Another muffled sound escaped around the cloth that bit into the corners of her mouth where it wrapped around the sides of her face and behind her head. No matter how hard she reached for an answer, she was met by nothing but darkness in the space of her own memories.

Shuffling on her side until she was able to push herself up against the wall at her back, she pressed into the hard surface in a vain attempt to steady herself as her eyes began to wander over the room before her. It was a sparse area, with nothing more than the soft light of twilight glowing throw the slats of the closed shutters scattering rays across the wood of the floor. No furniture stood in the center of it, leaving the space open aside from a thick layer of dust, yet something about it all felt familiar.

As her eyes adjusted to the light of the room, they continued to search for anything as she tried to swallow down the acrid taste of panic around the saliva soaked cloth.

Then she saw it.

A single darkened bloom of color just below the windowsill that stilled her breath. One small and poorly drawn daisy with too few petals and an angled stalk.

Levy had never been much of an artist, but at the tender age of five, she had picked up an array of brightly colored crayons with the goal of decorating the light yellow walls. She had only managed one floret before her mother caught her and quickly pointed her to a piece of paper that needed the decoration a bit more than the once pristine wall.

“ _It’s the only flower I can’t kill,_ ” her mother had laughed when Levy had asked years later why she had never tried to cover it or clean it off.

Ice floated through her veins, its sharp edges cutting deep down into her marrow as her heart began to crash around wildly within her chest.

She was in her old home.

The very same home that had held some of her most precious memories.

The same home that she had left after her mother’s death with no intent on ever coming back, if only because the very sight of it pushed a dagger in between her ribs.

The home that had been given to her aunt in her mother’s will.

“You are quite the sleeping beauty, aren’t you?” A cold voice cleaved through the silence as Kearia’s heels clicked against the hardwood floors, bringing her through the doorway and into the room. Across her face was a smile curved like a scythe, cutting through to Levy’s core when she turned its full force on her.

In the dim light, all the sharp planes of her face were accented with long shadows, turning her into something not quite human as she continued towards her.

A quick glint of twilight exposed the understated blade that Kearia had lightly balanced within her grasp, the metal of it turning from a bright silver to a warm orange with the light. Crouching before Levy, she brought the dagger upwards until its cool tip touched the skin of her jaw before she carefully dragged it against the bone. It was a threat weighted enough for her to feel it, but not enough to break skin.

_Yet._

“Wait, no. That’s not quite the right story, is it?” She purred as her mauve stare traced over the lines of Levy’s face as if she was trying to memorize it. The blade rolled off the tip of her chin before she raised it again, this time settling it against her cheek. Everything within her screamed for her to get away as Levy struggled against the ropes once more, the sudden movement dragging her skin across the sharp edge of the knife.

A wet warmth began to roll down her cheek slowly as she returned her aunt’s prying gaze, her brows pulling together in question as the cloth strangled the words that would voice it.

“Isn’t fate funny?” Kearia asked as she pulled the dagger back, balancing her elbow on her knee as she began to inspect the blood that painted the silver a deep scarlet. “Handing you everything you needed to know tucked inside a book of fairy tales.”

Eyes flicking back to her captive, Levy found herself frozen as her aunt reached towards her slowly, her fingers smoothing over her unmarked cheek before they hooked into the fabric that was tied through her mouth. With a tug, she pulled it free of her lips and let the wet fabric fall around Levy’s neck.

“Hello, darling,” she crooned as she sat back on her haunches, both arms bracing against the tops of her thighs. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions. You are always an inquisitive one.”

In the distance she could hear those words echoed from another time, from another life, and suddenly, she was reminded of the dream. The one that had painted her as a storyteller in love with a knight that had died in her arms. One that had been killed by her own hand.

Not a dream.  _A memory_.

“What are you talking about?” She rasped, ignoring how her dried lips cracked with the effort of forming words, the metallic tang of blood slipping into her mouth as she tried to swallow. That voice that had once told her to run was screaming at her again to not let on what she knew.

 _Survive_ , it said.

Arching her perfectly manicured brow, Kearia waved a bored hand. A thick, dark fog began to manifest itself around her clawed fingers until it dissipated, leaving a heavy leather bound tome in her clutch.

“I see your education hasn’t done you much help. My dear Levy, you’re very own thesis is about how such tales like this are bound in truth.” Her voice dripped with venom as she dropped the book with a loud thud that scattered dust around them. Her mind supplied a memory of a painting of a cruel queen, and of a blue haired girl clutching a dying knight to her.

“Your very own story lying just at your fingertips, and yet you were too busy trying to prove his story to be true, that you missed your own,” the purple of her eyes were filled with malice as she chewed out her words, turning them into sharpened pieces of ground metal that each found a mark in Levy’s chest.

“How tragic.”

Punctuating her point, Kearia let out a short bark of humorless laughter that sent a thrill down her spin as it echoed through the empty room.

“Then tell me, Aunt Kearia,” Levy said lowly, twisting her wrists against the rope as she leant forward, fruitlessly trying to work against the twine. “What is my story.”

Time stood still around them as her hardened gold stare held her aunt’s amethyst one, a silent battle of dominance waging between them as the quiet dropped onto their shoulders like a thick blanket. This close, Levy could see how the shadows had turned her into something sharp and untouchable, but now she just looked human.

Somehow, that made her all the more terrifying.

Then, she was gone. Pushing herself up from her crouched position, she turned her back to her niece, her shoulders rising and falling with the burden of a weight she couldn’t see.

“Your story,” she hissed so lowly, Levy was almost sure she’d imagined it at first. “Is my story.”

The loud clicks of her heels bounced off the walls as Kearia began to pace, the stained dagger glinting its now red shine as she turned it this way and that, examining its blade as if it held the answers.

“I succeeded, you know,” she after a thoughtful moment. “I won. I took everything from you like you took everything from me.”

Pain and anger charred her words until they were black, settling in the space that stood between her and Levy like burning hunks of coal.

“But love got in the way,” another humorless laugh as she shook her head. “It’s always love in these tales, isn’t it? Love took Makarov from me, and then it took this from me too.”

Turning her attention to Levy with a sharp look, she hissed.

“You took that from me too.”

“No, I—” Levy started, grasping for anything to say to defend herself, only to be cut off by a single wave of Kearia’s hand.

“But I was angry, and I could watch you lose everything over and over again. To see that pretty face turned ugly with pain and your tears as he died in your arms time and time again.”

 _Gajeel_ , the voice said softly as if saying it any louder would make it break. It was nothing more than a caress, but it raised goosebumps along the path of her forearms as she continued to watch her aunt twirl the dagger in her hand.

“It was the sweetest revenge, made even sweeter since he always died because of you.”

The corner of Kearia’s blood colored lips turned upward in a cruel smile as she turned to follow her path back across the room. The sound of her voice droned along to the cadence of the pulse in Levy’s ears.

 _He always died because of you_.

 _You will kill him_ , wasn’t that what the specter of her former self had said? The realization made her nauseous as everything started to slowly click into place.

_The book._

_The dream._

_Her aunt._

“But I am tired of following you through the end of time. Tired of this,” Kearia paused as her fist tightened around the handle, turning her knuckles white in the dying light of the day.

“This hollow pain in my chest. I lost everything. And watching you suffer no longer gives me satisfaction.”

Swallowing back bile, Levy watched warily as her aunt stopped just before her. Slicing the blade through the air in a low arc, she found herself staring down its point as she continued.

“Why should you continue to get more time?” Anguish cracked her words like fragile glass beneath a hammer.

“Why do you get to relive any happiness at all?”

Quiet settled over them as she kept the dagger pointed at her niece, the shadows of the setting sun growing longer across the room until the woman before her completely shifted into someone else.

Before her, she stood taller, her spine lengthening as she took on a regal pose as she looked down her nose at her. It was an all too familiar look that turned her aunt into a far distant memory that sent waves of panic and fear rolling through her chest.

Her voice came unbidden from her lips as she spoke.

“Who are you?”

But she already knew. She’d seen those purple eyes painted on page. Had seen the woman they belonged to. Knew exactly whose eyes had been watching her for all her life.

All her lives. 

But she needed to hear it.

“Stupid girl,” Kearia hissed before she lunged forward, driving the dagger into the drywall just to the right of her head. The blade vibrated with the force as she let go, using the same hand to grab Levy’s chin, her thumb landing cruelly on the cut on her cheek. She felt the sharp points of her nails as they dug into her skin.

“I am the queen. I married your father but he never loved me like he loved her. Like he loved  _her_.”

Fire burned in the depths of her eyes, turning them so dark, Levy could no longer see the bright purple they had once been.

“And now, this is going to end.”

Levy’s head hit the wall behind her as she was shoved back, the sheer strength of it popping stars across her vision as the queen stood and turned toward the doorway.

“How?” Levy gasped as she watched her lithe form walk away. Panic burned at her nerves, tearing into her chest and leaving a gaping wound along her sternum that left her hollowed out as she prayed for an answer. Though, what she would do with it, even she didn’t know.

The sharp clack of her heels against wood was the only answer she thought she would get before she watched her aunt pause in the doorway.

“How?” She tried again, desperation making the word heavy.

“He’ll end this,” Kearia finally said, not even bothering a final look over her shoulder as she disappeared through the entrance and leaving Levy alone with her thoughts.

 _He’ll end this_.

Her mind turned the words over and over until they almost blurred together, leaving just a single name in its wake.

 _Gajeel_.

The silence of the room was shattered as she cried out into the now darkened room as the sun dipped beneath the horizon.

****************** 


	15. Interlude- Once Upon A Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One, one Kingdom chapter, ah ah ah. ANYWAY, here it is. The big one. The one with answers! This had a minor last minute change in planning. Originally it was gonna be from a shared perspective of Levy and Gajeel. Then I realized there was a better way to do it. At least, I hope it was better lol

Kearia Dreyar hadn’t always had a hardened heart. Once upon a time, she had known a love that had been all encompassing. It had shaped her life into something bright and warm. Something palpable that she could feel constantly weighted against her chest and filling her with that ever present feeling of purpose.

When she’d first met Makarov Dreyar, it was mere months before their marriage, something she had made sure her father knew displeased her. She was a lady and she was bound by duty, sure, but she had always hoped to marry for love.

 _Love is for the poor_ , her father would always say in a stern voice with the same lilt of a pleasant mantra as if he wasn’t ripping her dreams from her hands. The ride that day to the kingdom had been one made in silence as she’d let herself stew within the mire of her dark thoughts. Kearia hated her life, hated her duty, and already hated the prince she had yet to meet who was playing a part in it all.

The twisting, tangle vines of her rumination tainted the otherwise beautiful landscape that went by through the carriage window and constricted her heart until she was certain it would explode.

Even the castle, which was one of the finest she’d ever seen, looked stained by the shadows of her reeling thoughts.

In the moments that passed between her stepping from the safety of the carriage and the comfort of her dreams into the cold reality of her life, Kearia decided to make it known how displeased she was.

Walking across the smooth stone of the hall, she’d kept her head down and kept her hands folded in front of her, working her fingers together until her very skin burned with the friction of her far off thoughts.

 _I’ll hate him_ , she told herself as she followed her father, avoiding the eyes of the servants that watched her as she passed. _I’ll make him regret agreeing to this_.

A small voice at the back of her mind quietly reminded her that she had as well.

But that was different. He was a prince, and he could turn the tides should he so please. Kearia had never had a say, and she wouldn’t ever.

By the time they had reached the throne room, the skin of her hands were worked pink and her lips had been wrenched downward in an angry frown. Standing before the heavy wooden doors that separated her from her future, she was a warrior poised for war. A war that would be the rest of her life.

Then they opened.

And then, it all changed.

Makarov Dreyar, as it turned out, was just as all the stories had said. He was kind, and he was just. With a smile filled with the very sunlight that had arced through the raised windows of the great hall, he offered her his hand and some solace from the politics of their circumstance.

That first day, he broke down each and every wall she had carefully thrust up around her with the mortar of her hatred and the bricks of her defiance.

By the end of that week, he had led her away from that wall and toward a path to her own sweet ruin.

By the end of their short engagement, Makarov led her to her new life that was safe within the halo of his arms.

Like all good love stories, her’s had been a fantastic thing that had destroyed the very person she had once been and left a radiant knew being in their place. For years, Kearia lost herself within the pages of her own love story, often finding herself thinking back on her father’s words with a small smile. Because he had been wrong.

Love wasn’t for the poor.

Love was for all, and love was finally her’s. It gilded her life with its warm light, blinding her to the realities of all else.

It also blinded her to the harsh truth that stood stark at the end of her path.

All stories— love or otherwise— come to an end. And not all of them ended happily.

***

Death took Makarov in the night, swooping in after a gasping breath and stilling his heart beneath his wife’s hand. The story went that Kearia was a dutiful wife, sitting at his side as he was eased from the troubles of this mortal world. They said that her tears ran for days, cascading from her cheeks like falling stars as she mourned the loss of the light of her life.

No one knew that the stories were false.

No one knew that Kearia led the hand of death to Makarov’s side.

The tears that fell from her eyes were not those of sorrow, but those of rage. They were not tears for the loss of her husband, but for the loss of the life that she had thought she had. Only to find out that they were nothing more than lies.

 _Your daughter’s_ , she had heard the oracle say that fateful night. Within those two words, the fabric of everything she had known was torn, leaving the fraying bits to catch and snag until both ends were unraveled completely. It had undone her, the realization that the very love that she had thought to have been all her’s had been nothing more than an illusion.

Nothing more than a facade.

Somehow, it was crueler than if he had never tried at all.

Three years had passed since that night, each passing hour just another that burned against the hollowed husk of her insides, charring her until anything that had once been left of the woman she’d been was nothing more than ash. The ache of it festered in the expanse of her empty chest, fueling her as she began to plan.

Within the shadows that had begun to taint their love, Kearia began to craft a spell, one that would deal a hand worse than death to the daughter that had shattered the illusion of her being. Death was something that many would meet, but not her.

Not the girl with the pretty blue hair and the big hazel eyes with nothing but the world trapped within them. The girl that had looked just like her mother.

Her name, was Levy McGarden, and by the time she was done with her, she would wish she had been the one to die.

***

The knight’s name was Gajeel Redfox, and he had thought he’d bested Kearia. After waking in the castle he had once known as his home with a splitting headache and the woman he loved thrown carelessly beside him on the stone floor, he had flown into a near demonic fury. It matched that of anything the queen had heard of his father, the great Iron Dragon himself, and Makarov’s dear old friend.

With eyes burning with the fire of raging embers, he had managed to get himself and Levy from the dungeon and past the guards that were loyal to her. It had been easy enough for her to get them to turn against Gajeel. With a lie spun from the barest threads, she was able to convince her the royal guard of the treachery that had been all her own. To them, he was the actual killer of their most beloved king, and Levy had been the reason he’d done it.

Their own devotion to the crown couldn’t stand up to Gajeel’s for the girl, though, and he had soon managed to get them free of their captivity and loose into the castle. Not that it mattered. Kearia had planned for this day for years, and she didn’t intend for it to slip through her grasp quite so easily. By the time they had woken, it was already too late. The very curse she had spent so much time crafting had already settled itself deep within their bones.

Their running, had been nothing but a moot point.

When she found them so very close to a hidden exit that only Makarov had known, she couldn’t help but relish the way Levy’s face had faltered. In that moment, she had seen the look of indescribable fear turn her bright sunny features into that of a twisted storm filled sky.

“Did you think I would let you go so easy?” She asked, slipping from the shadows with all the same ease of the darkness that had hidden her from their gaze. The angry crackle of an unbidden tempest worked its way through her veins as she felt the familiar prickle of old forbidden magic settling in across her skin. This was what she was waiting for. That exact shade of terror that was turning Levy’s eyes a muted color as she continued to move toward them.

“No,” Gajeel answered, an arm carefully shuffling Levy behind him as he crouched in a protective stance and his fist tightened around the hilt of a stolen sword from one of the fallen guards.

“But you must not have thought I would give up so easily either,” he snarled, biting out each angry word before he pushed himself towards her. In the quick movements and determined set of his mouth, Kearia almost saw herself mirrored in the knight. Love was what drove him running headfirst into the cause of his very ruin. A small, cruel smile twisted her features upward as she twisted the air between them around her fingers with the quick flick of her wrist and froze him mid stride.

“No, my dear,” she cooed as she closed the distance between them, words pointed toward Gajeel as her eyes remained on the girl standing behind him.

She truly was beautiful. Somehow, that only managed to usher forward the crashing waves of her fury.

“Where would the fun have been if you did.” Kearia continued to watch Levy, catching the way her eyes flickered with a heat she knew all too well. It would be easy for the girl to just run. The exit was just at her back, a wide open hall that would lead her to her freedom.

But they both knew she wouldn’t.

Not when she was trapped by the very same four letter word that held the queen. They were different sides of the same coin, and in the end, they would both be destroyed by it.

“Levy,” Gajeel ground out as Kearia ran a pointed nail down over the side of his cheek as her crimson painted lips pulled over her canines. “Go. Run! I’ll find you!”

His last words were a hoarse plea as he twisted angrily against the weight of the unseen constraints holding him bound in place between the two women. With his back to her, he missed the way her shoulders straightened and her eyes hardened in resolution. The very look caused Kearia’s lips to pull up higher at the edges.

“Let him go,” Levy’s voice was cold and strong when she finally spoke, her hands fisting at her sides as she stood taller still. “It’s me you want, right?”

“Levy—” the knight started, only to be cut off as she continued to speak.

“Take me. Please,” she gestured toward Gajeel. “He has nothing to do with this. Just, let him go. You can have me.”

The purple of Kearia’s venom filled eyes flared as they flicked between Levy and the man before her, carefully regarding them both. A sharp gasp tore from the knight as she clutched his face, her nails digging into the meat of his cheeks as she wrenched his head to the side so that his gaze was turned over his shoulder towards Levy.

“You would so willingly give your life for him?” She asked slowly, each word measured and slow as she let them roll off the tip of her tongue.

“Yes,” Levy breathed, taking a step forward. “I would give anything for him.”

Silence coated itself over the room with the same heavy quality of crushing velvet as Kearia painted them once more with the acidic color of her gaze. For just a moment, a blitz of hope sparked through the quiet as Levy took another step forward.

“Levy,” Gajeel grunted as he fought against the magic and the hand holding him in place. The force of his struggle pushed her nails further into his skin until deep ruby began to well and fall down his face.

Slowly, Levy reached out her hand. In a single hush of a moment, time stopped around the trio as Kearia stared at her outstretched palm.

“God dammit, Levy, no!”

Exclamation shattering the momentary trance, she pulled her hand away from Gajeel’s face, her garnet stained nails catching the light as she flicked her wrist. A small, shocked sound escaped Levy’s chest as she was pulled quickly toward her, only stopping once she stood beside the knight.

“Stupid girl,” Kearia hissed as she leant in close, her words blowing the strands of her azure hair from around her face. This close, she could see the resemblance she shared with her father trapped in the strength that burned in the depths of her eyes.

Just to her side, Gajeel growled, fighting again against the bonds that held him.

“I’ll kill you,” he snarled, baring his teeth. A laugh filled with broken glass and frozen air fell from her lips as Kearia turned her head sharply to look at him.

“My dear,” she soothed. “I don’t think so.”

With another deft flick of her hand, a darkness spread across the skin of Levy’s hands, turning them a pitch black coated in purple electricity. Inhaling sharply, the bluenette stared in horror as the shadows quickly dissipated, leaving two elongated silver daggers in their place.

“I’ll let one of you live,” Kearia said, turning her attention back to Levy. Her eyes bore into Levy’s very core as the dagger in her right fist slowly began to turn until it was pressed to her own throat, and the one in her left pointed toward Gajeel’s chest.

“But you must choose, Levy,” the amethyst in her gaze was filled with a building hunger. “A life for a life. A loss for a loss. For him to live, you must die.”

Gajeel snarled again as he launched forward again only to be stopped once more by the magic constricting him. Eyes wild with dread and something toeing the lines of love and hate, he looked between the two women as he fought against Kearia’s hold.

Giving way ever so slightly, he slipped forward minutely, just enough for him to feel the momentary lapse of the queen’s magic. His eyebrows shot upwards as he looked toward her and then back at his love.

“Gajeel,” Levy whispered, the once bright honey of her gaze fading as it was muted by the tears that crested over her lids. Her knuckles turned white as she grasped the hilt of the dagger at her throat tighter.

“Choose,” Kearia urged, keeping her eyes fixed on the knight and the careful look of feigned composure that had straightened his brow.

“I’m so sorry.” The tears were streaking her face as she spoke through the crushing sound of her sobs. A small hiccup parted her lips as she drew in a breath.

“Lev,” Gajeel growled, his garnet stare cutting from her to the queen. Caught within the cracks of the moment, a single beat of understanding silence passed between them.

 _You understand_ , her cold eyes said.

His nod was barely perceptible, a shallow dip of his chin as he sealed a their silent deal.

“I love you so much,” Levy breathed as her grip tightened further. Kearia bit on the edge of a smile as she saw the tip of the blade catch the light with the slight movement.

The air ripped from the hall, leaving the three of them standing in a frozen moment as she began to slowly slide the dagger against her skin. Then Gajeel roared, throwing his weight against the magic as Kearia lifted it, sending him careening through the space between them.

There was the soft sound of tearing fabric and flesh, and a sharp intake of pained breath, and then nothing as everything else fell away.

Hands clutching around Levy’s and the dagger that had pointed in his direction, Gajeel had thrown himself into the blade. Crimson spilled over their hands as they stood frozen in a moment as he looked down at Levy, the corner of his mouth turned slightly upwards.

“Levy,” he said lowly, lifting a trembling hand to her cheek and stroking a line of red across her cheek with the soft touch of his thumb.

“No,” she gasped as she dropped the other dagger. The sharp clang of the metal bouncing against the stone punctuated the sound of it as the knight’s knees buckled beneath his weight, and they both fell down to the ground.

“Please,” she whispered, pulling her hand from beneath his as she began to flutter them over his chest, unsure of what she could possibly do.

Unaware, that there was nothing she could do.

Their voices became a dull, distant thrum as Kearia stood over them, watching as Levy’s tears fell across Gajeel’s face as his blood slowly cascaded across the drab grey stone beneath them.

With each harsh breath the knight fought to drag between his lips, she could feel the heavy weight against her shoulders begin to fade, but in its wake there was the harrowing hollowness of nothing but emptiness.

Lifting her own trembling hand up to her chest, she pressed her fingers to the space above her heart.

Beneath them, she felt nothing at all.

Instead of the happiness she thought she’d feel, Kearia felt nothing at all but the looming void of everything she had lost.

“Don’t go,” she heard Levy say lowly as she pulled Gajeel into her lap. A soft caress of a breeze carried the words across the hall, sending a ripple of something Kearia couldn’t quite place across her skin.

For just a moment, she thought maybe it was the feel of love’s warmth returning to her.

“Levy,” Gajeel’s voice was a barely there wisp as he turned his head into the crook of her arm and nuzzled closer. Across the ground around them, a faint glow began to shine with warm golden light.

“I’ll find you,” he murmured.

“No,” Kearia whispered as the glow began to grow, bathing the three of them in its light. Where the couple was basked in its warmth, she felt nothing but ice begin to expand across the hollow of her chest.

“Gajeel, please.”

It grew ever brighter, turning the night to day as they exchanged their final words.

“No!” Kearia cried as her fingers twisted into the fabric of her dress over her heart. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The curse, it should have forced them into a continuous loop of loss. One that would rival that of her own.

But there, before her now, love was turning on her once more as it touched the darkness of her spell and turned it to light.

“No!” She screamed once more, scooping up the dagger from the ground as she made her way towards the couple.

“I love you,” Gajeel whispered.

In that moment, everything went white as the light erupted across the hall.

And then, it all went black, leaving the hall emptied of all but two daggers and the warm, crimson stain.

*****************************


	16. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO AFTER THIS CHAPTER THERE’S ONE MORE AND AN EPILOGUE AND I’M NOT SURE WHEN THAT HAPPENED BUT IT REALLY SNUCK UP ON ME.

**Hey, can we meet up? I was hoping we could talk.**

The address Gajeel had received after his agreement had led him outside of the city, taking him far past the outskirts and into the wooded area that surrounded it until he found himself standing in front of what looked like a wholly abandoned home. At one point it had been a beautiful home, with its wrap around porch, once white paneling and bird’s egg blue shutters.

It was a fairy tale home, one meant for happily ever after, yet something about it was tainted by darkness. Shadows seemed to sweep across it like a sickness, staining its entrance a near opaque black and spreading along the closed shutters like a guard.

Worst of all, it was quiet.

The kind of quiet that promised ill will and prefaced a disaster.

 _Save her_.

The voice— no, his voice— whispered, dancing along the edges of his conscious as a single drop of something a lot like fear dragged a pointed claw over the ridge of his spine. Goosebumps raced out across his skin as he swallowed the feeling down as he continued to look up at the home.

Deja vu tugged at his mind, dragging his thoughts towards a single moment of a life once lived where his chest had been pierced by a silver blade. A short wave of pain burnt across the mark over his heart that he now knew was further proof of his past. Something told him that if he set foot into the house, he wouldn’t leave it.

It was a realization laced with poison that raced through his veins and targeted his heart, sending it crashing against the back of his ribs. Not, because of the inevitability of it all. If Lily was right, and if the dream was true, Gajeel would die and he would find Levy all over again.

No, the fear of it had nothing to do with the unavoidable end he faced, but with the very fact of what that end meant.

Because suddenly he knew that the person that had sent that message hadn’t been Levy at all.

 _Save her_.

With his limbs weighed down by his heavy thoughts, he began to push himself across the overgrown stretch of lawn between him at the front of the house. Grass and weeds rustled against his shins with each step, burred stalks and leaves catching at his jeans. A stray thought compared the snagging to that of hands trying to hold him back.

The wood of the porch steps buckled slightly beneath his weight, creaking ominously and snapping the quiet that had settled around him, pulling another crackling line of suspense through his chest. Each splintered sound clung to the air as he crossed the porch and settled his palm on the doorknob, only briefly noting the warmth of the metal as if the house was alive before he pushed it open without any sort of preamble.

Squealing with rust and disuse, the hinges protested at his intrusion as he stepped across the threshold into the dimly lit room. The shadows that had painted the exterior with wavering darkness had followed him in, dancing across the faded wood floor and clinging to the walls with their peeling paint.

Before him was a foyer that had once been as beautiful as the outside. A widened area that led to an oak staircase and highlighted by a hanging light fixture crafted of iron and decorated with metallic roses.

It was once a marvelous thing, he was certain, but its former glory wasn’t what had caused the breath in his lung to catch or ice to chip off and rush through his veins.

“Levy,” he breathed as he froze at the doorway, red eyes tracing over the unmoving frame of the woman before him. With her arms wrenched above her head and tied together by thick rope, she hung limply from the chandelier.

“Levy,” Gajeel tried again as he made his way further into the home, drawn towards her by an unseen force that wouldn’t let him stay away. Unease blanketed his skin as he moved, the sudden tension of it all only snapping as his foot landed on a particularly loud seam of the floor.

“Gajeel?” Her voice was thin and faraway, almost as if it wasn’t her own. But it was there. Step faltering, Gajeel took pause as Levy lifted her head, her gaze distant and muted as it landed on him before sparking to life with panic as her golden eyes widened.

“Gajeel!” She yelled this time, twisting against the rope that held her above the ground. “No!”

Warning wrapped around the single word, but it came too late a seething blast of electric heat burst forth from deep within the home, rushing passed them both and slamming the door shut behind him.

“Oh Gajeel,” a familiar dark voice spoke, the words interspersed with the sharp rap of heels against the wood floor. “Predictable as always.”

Slinking through the doorway just to the side of the foyer stood a tall woman with hair pitch black and a mouth as red as freshly spilled blood.

A small spark of fear erupted across his chest as he watched that mouth pull upwards in a pointed smirk.

“You did always think of yourself as Levy’s knight in shining armor, didn’t you,” she said as she stepped into the entryway, never letting her burning amethyst eyes leave Gajeel.

“You,” he growled as the suddenness of realization cleared his mind of confusion with a single bright point of clarity. She was the same woman from the bar just the day before.

And she wasn’t just any woman.

She was the queen.

“Yes, dear, it’s me. So let’s skip the pleasantries,” Kearia feigned boredom as she waved a hand towards him in dismissal. “Instead, let’s talk about what we’re really here for.”

Her words dripped with thinly veiled threat.

“You won’t hurt her,” Gajeel snarled, lips pulling back over his teeth in a near feral snarl. “I won’t let you!”

Launching himself toward her, the only warning he received was a bright glint that lit the queen’s eyes before the breath was knocked out of him by the sudden hit of something he couldn’t see. Invisible claws dug into his flesh, holding him to where he was with a solid hold that didn’t budge with any of his fight.

“Now, now, don’t jump to conclusions,” Kearia smiled.

It was a sharp crescent carved with razor blades.

“I don’t plan on hurting her.”

Quiet fell over the trio as the true meaning behind her words sunk deep into his thoughts. The emphasis on I had been concise and clear. Kearia had never had any intention of hurting Levy herself.

Her plans had always been for Gajeel to do it.

“Let him go!” Levy yelled from behind Kearia as she twisted against her bonds futilely, only succeeding in swinging herself slightly as the queen kept her burning gaze on Gajeel.

Something dark and sharp began to slither its way under his skin, slowly following the tracks of his veins as it creeped through his limbs and towards his heart.

For all his efforts against his unseen bonds, Gajeel earned nothing more than Kearia’s full attention as she closed the distance between them.

“Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to be the one to live?” She soothed, raising her hand to trace a pointed nail down his cheek. “To avenge yourself, just once, Gajeel.”

The darkness that had pulled chunks of ice through his veins left searing lines in its wake with her words. No, he had never once thought that. With every dream, every thought and every memory, Gajeel had never once considered what it would be like to be the one to live. It had never been an option.

He would always give his life to ensure Levy lived.

Yet the shadows licked along the edges of his consciousness, turning every thought of his own into something dark that pushed him towards a choice he could never truly want.

Tendrils of choking smoke and burning darkness took root in his core, and slowly began to creep up through him.

“Gajeel.” His name on Levy’s tongue was nothing more than a sob as she watched him through tears.

“No,” he bit out around the heavy stone that had settled in the base of his throat, turning his crimson stare towards Kearia.

“No?” The queen’s voice was velvet and deadly as she carefully began to circle Gajeel, dragging her nails across his skin and down his neck as she stopped at his back. He felt the strength of her presence as she leant her face over his shoulder.

“You’ve never thought about how she’s never returned the favor, Gajeel.”

Her words were hot on his neck, branding themselves into his flesh as all other sound fell away, leaving his world silent as he stared forward to Levy. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving wet tracks along her skin as her mouth moved around syllables he couldn’t hear. Black began to eat at the corners of his vision, tainting the vision of his blue princess with a darkness he swore to never let touch her again.

Screwing his eyes shut, Gajeel tried to swallow around the claw that had him by the throat and his mind reeled against the diseased thoughts turning his own into something wicked.

“Kill her, Gajeel,” Kearia’s voice was a rasp as he felt the shudder of shadowed silk running down the length of his arms, culminating at his fists before he felt metal explode within his clutched palms.

 _No_ , he thought desperately as he fought against the queen’s hold. His muscles flexed as he tried to fight against the pull of his own hand that led one of the daggers up towards his own throat. Frozen metal pricked just at the side of his throat where he found himself pressing the blade.

“It’s you or her, Gajeel.” Kearia’s presence disappeared, leaving nothing but frozen darkness writhing around him as his hands tightened around the hilts.

“Kill her.”

There was a loaded silence as time stood still. Then, he opened his eyes.

***

Burning pain radiated through Levy’s shoulders, ebbing upwards through her arms and out across her chest from where they’d been wrenched in an unnatural angle for so long, and yet the only thing she could feel was Gajeel’s frozen gaze as he stepped away from Kearia and towards her. Light glinted off the blades clutched within his fists, the brightness of it melting against her wavering sight.

“Gajeel,” she pushed his name through the burning tears that clogged her throat as she pulled against the rope above her once more.

Heart hammering against her ribs, she watched as he took pause just before her, his mouth turned down as his eyes searched her face for something. Anything.

A sign, maybe?

Swallowing around the knot in her throat, she pushed a watery smile across her lips.

“It’s okay,” Levy soothed as she looked at him, offering some form of solace in the face of his decision. Because in that moment, it was. Through the crushing weight that pressed against her chest and the burning hole of her fear, she could feel a lightness deep within her that beat that all back. Everything was okay, because for once, she would be able to give her life for him.

How many times had he given so much for her?

It would be okay. 

_He would be okay._

“Gajeel,” she breathed again as he stood in front of her, watching her carefully. The sudden need to touch tickled at her fingertips as she itched to reach out to him.

“It’s okay.”

Steeling herself for the searing pain of the blade, Levy nearly missed the glint that crossed across his gaze, lighting the garnet something close to fire as Gajeel smiled.

“No!” She managed before he turned quickly, his movement nothing but a rush in her vision as she felt the wet warmth of blood as it splashed across her face.


	17. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow y’all..... it’s the end. The final chapter. The end of all things. Anyway, just wanted to get a bit mushy right here at the top and say that it has been one helluva ride and thank you all so much for sticking it out with me! It’s bittersweet seeing it end, but I guess all stories must, huh? Anyway, BIG LOVE TO ALL OF YOU THAT STUCK IT OUT FOR THIS ONE!

Silence encapsulated by a heavy stillness stretched out over the foyer, turning it into a frozen stretch of time that left him breathless. Warm heat blossomed out over his fist, coating it with the burn of the queen’s life as he blood stained his skin from where his dagger met her chest.

In the one swift movement, Gajeel had broken the cycle of his and Levy’s ruin, turning against Kearia’s hold and stabbing blindly toward her.

He hadn’t had a plan.

It was more blind faith as the voice of all his past lives screamed at him to do anything that would save Levy.

 _Save her,_  they had screamed as he’d stepped closer to her, his eyes tracing the soft curves of her face as he tried to memorize all her lines and the exact shade of her shimmering honey eyes.

 _Save her_ , they had crescendoed as she had sobbed and assured him that it was okay. Okay for her to die, as if that could ever be an acceptable possibility.

 _Save her,_  they had bellowed, deafening him to all else as he’d turned against his own poised hand, dragging the sharpened tip of the blade across his throat. There was no way to know if it would work, but Gajeel had known one thing for certain.

He couldn’t lose Levy. No matter what he had to change, he would ensure that she would live.

Crimson stained his skin as Kearia looked up at him, her mouth moving around silent words as her violet eyes widened. Disbelief turned them murky as she searched his face for an answer to what had happened before they turned bright with understanding. Flicking down to where his fist still gripped tightly at the hilt of the dagger in the middle of her sternum, the edges of her lips tugged upwards before she returned her watery gaze up.

“Thank you,” she breathed, the words barely passing the full of her bottom lip before her lashes fluttered. A thick, wet gurgle caught in her throat as she coughed, flecks of red staining her chin as her legs gave and she started to sink down to the ground.

Gently, Gajeel led her down, the second blade still clutched in his hand as he caught her elbow, his own blood that colored its silver catching on the soft silk of her sleeve.

“Thank you,” Kearia said again as he settled her on the dull wood beneath them. The final shudder of death worked itself through her limbs as one last rattling breath passed her lips.

It was there, before him that he watched the light of her eyes dull, leaving them lifeless stones of amethyst.

In that moment, the silence broke, letting the sound of Levy’s heavy sobs that wrapped around his name break through the quiet.

“Gajeel!” She cried, her voice hoarse as he heard the sound of her struggling against the rope that held her to the fixture. It dragged him back to reality as he felt the burning sting of the long wet line across his throat.

Gracelessly, he let go of the daggers. Metal clattered loudly against the wood as the one marked with his blood fell besides the unmoving queen. Heated pain lanced across his throat as he gently fingered at his wound, the questioning probing pulling a low moan from deep in his chest at the burning sting from the pressure.

“Are you okay?” Levy said through her thick tears, her words turned to mush as he looked down at his fingertips that were now stained the same bright color as his other hand.

It was amazing how after all that, they still bled the same.

“Yeah,” he replied lowly, his eyes burning at their edges as his vision wavered slightly. “I’m fine, Lev.”

What was even more amazing, was that as Gajeel spoke those words, he found them to be true. He was fine. And more importantly, so was she.

Their unending cycle of life and death was finally ended and the heavy weight of every life he’d ever lived was suddenly dissipating from his shoulders, leaving him feeling light and free.

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the ground and turned to Levy. Tears marked wet lines down her cheeks, mixing with the crimson that had flecked her skin as she looked him over with wide eyes.

With careful movements, he crossed the space between them, reaching up for the ropes that bit into her wrists as he watched her closely.

“Are you okay?” He asked, emphasizing you as she held his stare with open wander and something a lot deeper that burned with all the same want he felt fizzling deep within his bones. It was as if his very being was calling out to her.

“It’s over,” Levy replied in way of an answer, sniffling around her response as Gajeel tugged on the rope. Pulling it free from around her wrists, he caught her carefully as her body went lax without the bounds to hold her up. Her palms were warm where they rest on his chest, bracing her as she looked up at him with her wet stare. A smile pulled gently at the edge of her lips, turning them slightly upwards as she took him in.

“We’re okay,” she finally said as her lips cracked wide, exposing her teeth in a fully realized grin that stopped Gajeel’s breath in his chest.

“We are,” he said slowly as he gently wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. The sparking lightness of joy bubbled within him, tickling his veins and the space around his heart as he pressed his nose to the top of Levy’s hair.

Laughter shook him as he felt her face against his chest, her arms slowly wrapping around his back to return the hug.

It was the feeling of happiness that he hadn’t realized he’d even been missing until that moment, when he could feel nothing else but the warmth of Levy in his arms.

A golden light began to color the room, twisting it into something ethereal and dusting the space with gilding. It felt familiar as it enveloped them, wrapping them in feathery illumination that caressed his skin with gentle heat. The moment stretched as the light grew to a near blinding pitch before it melted away, leaving them standing alone in the quiet of the home.

“Gajeel,” Levy said as she pulled away and looked around his shoulder. Turning his attention behind him, he saw the space where Kearia had been was now marked by nothing more than the vestiges of fluttering dust.

“She’s gone,” she continued, not looking away as Gajeel fully turned and balanced his arm across her shoulders. “It really is all over then.”

They were finally free. Free from the bonds that they had bore without knowledge. Free from the ties of past lives.

Most importantly, they were free to live.

Pulling her closer to his side, Gajeel smiled into the open of the foyer.

“Well, what do you think, Shrimp?” He asked, the bubbling happiness from earlier fizzling and gathering along his bones. Looking down to her, he saw her own bright smile that she returned to him. “Is this happily ever after?”

Weighing the his words carefully, Levy paused for just a moment before she nodded her head, bringing a hand up to grasp his at her shoulder.

“Yeah,” her words were as soft as her touch as she twisted their fingers together. “I think this is.”

***

**After.**

Breath tickled Gajeel’s throat as he shifted carefully against his pillow, his consciousness slowly dragging him up from the depths of his sleep as he became all too aware of the warm sun casting down on him from the windows and the slim arm thrown across his waist. Soft tendrils of lavender scented hair tickled his nose as he wrinkled in an attempt to shift the contact. Wakefulness came to him slowly before crashing down all at once as he opened his eyes to his own room and the bright blue of Levy’s hair that obscured his vision.

Her sleeping form shifted with him as she tightened her grasp on him, pressing closer into his side as she sighed contentedly. Without much though, he started to drag his fingertips over the bone of her shoulder and down her arm, tracing nonsensical lines as he reveled in the quiet of waking with Levy in his arms.

It had been almost a year since he’d defeated the queen and ended the curse that had plagued them, and his life couldn’t have been better. Each morning he woke to that same blue hair tickling his face and Levy’s warm breaths dancing along the scar that marked his throat, and he loved every single one of them.

In that time, the dream had stopped and he no longer heard the demanding voices that urged him to save her. Their past lives had dissipated into nothing more than distant memories, something more like faded dreams than any solid proof of something that they’d lived.

Not that that mattered.

With the curse lifted, they both only had this life and this love. All the others were just stepping stones to get to this one, and he was all too ready to live it out with her.

 _Yes_ , he thought as he pressed a gentle kiss to Levy’s crown, his smile growing as she buried her head closer into his chest.

_They only had this life, and he was just fine with that._

****************

**Author's Note:**

> CHECK OUT THE [ AMAZEBALLS COMMISSION I GOT DONE BY BLUE JUST FOR KINGDOM!](http://bluuesparrow.tumblr.com/post/167237872939/boy-howdy-this-was-a-great-project)


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